


Heartbeat

by Komatsu



Category: Bravely Default (Video Game) & Related Fandoms
Genre: Child Death, F/M, Marriage, Other tags to be added later, Pregnancy, Unplanned Pregnancy, hint look at the warnings, sadness and heartbreak
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-13
Updated: 2018-05-14
Packaged: 2019-03-04 05:25:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 41,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13357422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Komatsu/pseuds/Komatsu
Summary: Edea and Ringabel are just beginning to start their life together when they get the best news ever - that they're starting a family together. Or is it? It’s not the most ideal time, but together they can make anything work, and Edea will learn how to balance being the Grand Marshal and being a mother, maybe.





	1. Chapter 1

“Congratulations, Lady Marshal,” her doctor said. He was young, but smart, and currently sitting across from her on what looked like a chair much more comfortable than the hospital bed she was sitting on.  "You’re pregnant.“

Edea’s vision suddenly swam. The room spun for the briefest of moments before she stabilized herself, clutching the edge of the bed. "I’m sorry,” she said, touching a hand to her forehead, laughing to herself.  "Could you repeat that?“

He really didn’t need to. She’d heard him the first time.

 _Pregnant_.

In her routine physical, it was her nurse that had noticed high level of hormones in her blood. Another sample had been taken, just to be sure, but there was no other explanation for what was being seen in the results. Dr. Bones, her usual physician, had been brought in to explain the findings, and -

"Are you alright?” he asked her now, looking up from his clipboard. She startled; he had been talking about something, something about a few weeks, and prenatal appointments, and other things she hadn’t been paying attention to, but now she tried to focus on him.

“Yes, I’m fine,” she replied, shaking her head. “Just… in shock, I suppose. I wasn’t expecting this.” Not yet. Not now.

He smiled at her. “It’s understandable, Lady Marshal.” He paused, his smile fading. “Do you plan on keeping the baby? I can - ”

She shook her head again. “I think - I think I plan to.” She wasn’t sure  _how_  she was going to deal with being pregnant on top of everything else that came with being Grand Marshal, but - but she couldn’t fathom the alternative. On the other hand, now that she thought even more about it, she realized that Ringabel needed to know. He needed to know she carrying his child. And she knew that Ringabel had wanted to start a family eventually, but…

“Well, in that case I’ll be prescribing you some vitamins to take. I want to see you back here in a month, but don’t be afraid to come in if anything feels amiss,” Dr. Bones said, turning back to the papers he was writing on.

“Oh,” Edea said. Her hand strayed to her stomach as she waited for him to finish up writing the prescription. This was real. This was really happening. She really was pregnant.

It shouldn’t have come as a surprise. She’d been feeling under the weather for a couple of weeks now, which is why she had booked her appointment, upon realization that she was overdue for one. She’d thought it was just early onset of the flu, and she could get a shot and be on her way. While waiting for the appointment, she had started to feel sick in the mornings, though she hadn’t thrown up yet. And then there was the odd sensitivity to smells she’d developed, which had led to Ringabel switching colognes when she’d complained. There was something else that both she and Ringabel had noticed, when they were alone at night and attempting to destress. The memory made her cheeks flush.

“Lady Marshal?” Dr Bones asked. He had some other papers for her to take, instructions and suggestions on how to handle her morning nausea and what foods to avoid.

Edea took the stack from him, nodding. “Yes?” she asked, not sure if he had asked a question or was just inquiring as to her spacing out. She needed to get home.

“Travel safe,” he told her, smiling. “It’s not just your health you’ll need to look out for now.”

“Right.”

Edea decided to have dinner that night brought up to their rooms by the chefs, rather than the two of them walking down to the dining room as usual. Edea just didn’t have the energy for it, and besides, Ringabel had yet to return from the military quarters. He would have to change before dinner and it would just take too long. She was hungry.

As she waited impatiently for him, she rubbed her hand across the front of her stomach. The gnawing sensation that she felt was probably hunger, but how could she be sure that it wasn’t the hormones of her changing body? Now that she knew, she was hyper aware of every sensation that she felt, attributing it to the little passenger she now carried. She wondered how long it would be before she could feel the baby kicking.

She was pulled out of her thoughts by the sound of the door opening and Ringabel entering with a groan. “Hello dear,” he said, his voice clearly tired. When he saw the spread of food over the table, he perked up. “Dinner here tonight? You are a lifesaver.”

Edea stood up to join him and met him halfway across the room. He leaned down to kiss her cheek. “I’ll take a quick shower and then we’ll eat, if you don’t mind waiting,” he told her, running his hand over her hair.

“I don’t mind,” she replied, eyes glancing over his face. He looked exhausted, with his face pale and his eyes worn. Perhaps this wasn’t a good night to tell him after all… but then he beamed at her, and she wavered again.

“Thank you. Perhaps later you and I can have a good soak together?”

She shoved lightly at him, heart pounding. This is how she’d ended up in this predicament in the first place! “Go get clean. You stink.”

And boy, could she smell it.

By the time he had returned from his shower, she had lost her nerve and most of her appetite. Ringabel was clearly exhausted from his long day, and it was only years of military training that was forcing him to eat tonight, to replenish his energy. This wasn’t the right time to tell him that she was with child. She wanted it to be when he wasn’t half asleep over his salad, but when they could relax together. Be happy together.

Ringabel noticed her staring morosely down at her plate. “What’s the matter?” he asked. “Is it not cooked through? Too bland?”

“That’s not it,” she said, moving her steak around with a fork. It smelled so strongly, she could identify almost every single one of the spices used on it. “I’m just not very hungry.”

He raised one pale eyebrow. “You? Not hungry? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” she was quick to assure him. “Everything’s fine. It’s just been a long day.”

Ringabel agreed with that, playing his fork along the edge of his own plate. “It has been… oh! Didn’t you have a physical today? How did that go?”

She stared at him. He knew about that? … of course he knew about that, she’d had to reschedule two meetings so she could make the appointment, and they’d talked about how she’d been feeling slightly ill the previous night.

“It went well,” she said, hesitating. Ringabel raised an eyebrow.

“Did they find out why you were feeling sick?” he asked now, his fork swirling around the plate.

“Yes.”

There was a long pause before he spoke up again. “And? What is it?” She could see him starting to worry. It was obvious in the way that his eyebrows pushed together, the downturn of his lips. It was unusual for him to have to pry things out of her.

“It’s … it’s fine, Ringabel. I’m fine,” she decided to say. She didn’t want him to worry, but she wanted to break the news to him another day, another time. Maybe.

There was another long pause, then he turned back to his food. “Alright,” he said, sighing slightly. “If you’re sure.”

“I am,” she insisted, feeling both relief and guilt. Ringabel wouldn’t pry if it was obvious she didn’t want him to, and she was thankful for that, but at the same time… he was the father of her - their baby. He’d probably be happy no matter the circumstances that she told him, right?

He went back to eating, but she could tell that his heart was in about as much as hers. It was only the knowledge that she  _needed_  to eat for her unborn child that kept her putting food in her mouth, even though it tasted like ash. Still, she chewed slowly as she watched Ringabel finish his salad and down a glass of wine.

He poured himself another, and when he noticed her watching, he raised the bottle. “Do you want some?”

The idea of wine sounded  _amazing_  but Edea wasn’t stupid enough to drink when she was pregnant. It had been one of the first things her doctor had asked her to abstain from, not that she drank much to begin with. She did, every now and then, when she really needed to relax, and now she’d have to find something else, it seemed. “No thanks,” she replied, forcing herself to sound casual. “Not tonight.”

He nodded. “Alright. Maybe later? We have a day off the day after tomorrow, if you want me to keep it chilled until - ”

She bit her lip. “Not for a while,” she admitted, and she could see his eyebrows furrow again. “I… shouldn’t?”

Ringabel sighed, and looked at his glass for a moment before deciding to drink out of it.  Then, he turned to her, face serious.  "You’re not that much of a lightweight, are you? Edea, what’s wrong?“

"No, nothing’s wrong!” she tried to assure him. “I’m healthy, I’m fine. It’s just - ”

“ _Something_  is wrong,” Ringabel said, cocking his head to the side as he watched her. “Something that you’re not telling me. I can tell you’re worried, dear.”

“You can?” she asked, feeling a bit foolish for doing so. Of course he could tell.

He smiled at her, gentle and loving, and the guilt flooded her again. “Of course I can. I am your future husband, am I not? It’s my job to tell if something is bothering you.”

“It’s not your  _job_ ,” she corrected him, flushing. They hadn’t even said their vows yet. They hadn’t had time to plan the wedding, despite living together, and despite everything else that they had been doing that led up to her now carrying his child.

He flashed her a bright smile that, despite his tiredness, wasn’t forced in the least. “It will be, won’t it? Besides… I have noticed that you haven’t been well lately, and you’ve been so tired.” He hesitated before continuing, sounding more unsure. “Please tell me, at least, that you’re not sick.”

“I’m not sick,” she promised, realizing with a sinking heart what his worry may have been. “I’m just pregnant.”

That part slipped out without her meaning to. Ringabel nodded, sighing in relief, then froze. She held her breath and counted, waited.

9…10… 11 seconds later, he shook himself out his stupor and looked back over at her. “I’m sorry, Edea, what? I thought I heard you say…”

She felt breathless as she replied. “I’m pregnant.”

He looked confused. “How… what? What?”

Okay, that was a bit much, even for him. She glared. “ _Ringabel_!” Surely he knew exactly how babies were made. Actually, for a split second, worry flooded her that perhaps he didn’t, with the memory loss and all. Most of it had been regained, but still, there bits and pieces -

But now a smile was spreading on his cheeks. He pushed back his chair and practically flew around the edge of the table. By the time he reached her, the smile was so wide that she was certain it had to  _hurt_ , and he kneeled beside her. Edea pushed her chair back as well as he took her hands, staring up at her with a look of wonder on his face.

“Really? You're…”

He looked so exhilarated by the very idea that her chest ached anew, this time with joy. Of course he was happy. She reached out to cradle his face. The exhaustion that had been there previously was gone, as though it had been wiped away by magic.

“Really,” she said. “I’m pregnant.”

He kissed her then, and held her tightly, holding the contact between them for a long moment. Edea hummed against his lips, squeezing his shoulders with her hands. He was reacting better to this than she’d expected.

“Do you know the sex of the baby yet?” he asked when he pulled away, resting his hands on her legs. “Or - or the due date, I suppose. We should start preparing right away, and - ”

“Ringabel,” Edea laughed, tugging at his sleeve and preventing him from walking off to grab paper and pen. “Calm down. We’ll take it one step at a time.”

He looked sheepish and kneeled back down, sitting on his feet in front of her. “Right.” She grasped his arms.

“To answer your questions - it’s too early to see what the baby will be. But I’m around five weeks along, Dr. Bones said. I’ll be due in late winter, in February.”

“Oh, that isn’t far at all!” Ringabel exclaimed. “That’s why you were feeling ill? What did he say?”

“I need to take some vitamins and watch what I eat. But it’ll go away naturally over time.”

He nodded. “Do you have a list of approved foods? I’ll take a look at it myself, just so I can be sure that dinner is right. Oh, when is your appointment?”

“Dr. Bones wants to see me again in a month. Do you want to go with me?”  A month wasn’t so bad. She would have to schedule the appointment, but if it was that far out, her meetings could go around it. And then of course, she would just have to watch herself so that she didn’t have to visit sooner.

“Please,” he all but begged. “I’ll go with you next time.”

She nodded and he leaned up to kiss her once more, pressing his forehead to hers. “So when can we know the sex of the baby?” he asked again. “There’s some items we can buy without knowing, of course, but I really want to coordinate and - ”

“Soon,” she told him, but she was starting to feel overwhelmed. She hadn’t expected this level of enthusiasm from him, though she realized she really should have. He’d wanted a family for so long.

He was continuing to babble at her, not noticing the way that her grip tightened on his arms. “I’ll ask your father to make some items. Won’t that be nice? He says he’s been wanting a bit more of a challenge, and I think he’d really like to make a blanket or something. And - oh, did you already get your vitamins or do I need to pick them up for you? Anything else you have to take?”

“No,” she managed to get out. She shouldn’t have eaten. She’d been feel nauseated on and off for weeks, thanks to her baby, and that feeling was getting rather strong at this time.

Ringabel noticed how pale she was. “What’s wrong?” he demanded. “Is it the baby?”

She shook her head. “I need water.”

He fetched some for her, and Edea leaned back in her chair to just breathe, her hand smoothing over her stomach as she tried to swallow down the urge to be sick. It wasn’t his fault he was so happy; she couldn’t fault him for being so excited, and it was far better than the alternative, where he might be upset or even angry. She’d been silly to worry that he might… she should have known him better.

“Do you need to lay down?” he asked when he returned with water, holding the glass to her. He kneeled in front of her once more, his eyes concerned.

“I might,” she confessed, looking at her plate. She hadn’t even finished half of it! He followed her gaze.

“I’ll put the rest in the icebox. Go lay down and let me clean up.”

Their rooms in Central Command had a small kitchen, used primarily for breakfast and tea. It was also where the rare leftovers lived.. She nodded mutely to him as she stood, closing one eye as he kissed her cheek, and headed into their shared bedroom. Collapsing - carefully - onto the bed, she nudged her face into the pillow. She couldn’t sleep, as her thoughts were too muddled, but she rested.

When Ringabel came into the room to sleep some time later, she didn’t protest as he cradled her from behind, his movements careful and gentle. Leaning back into his embrace, she allowed him to kiss her on the temple.

“I’m happy,” he told her in a quiet tone. “Are you?”

“Of course I am,” she said, turning enough so that she could face him better. “Just… a little overwhelmed. This is a big step, Ringabel, and we’re not even married just yet.”

“You’re right,” he admitted, but there was a smile on his face the same. She touched his cheek with her fingertips.  "But if you’re ready, then… so am I. We’ll be fine.“

She sighed as he kissed her forehead now, then her lips. "We’ll be fine,” she repeated, because she wanted it to be true. She was so young, and they were both so busy, and Eternia needed them, but there was no going back from this. Now, their new child would need them too. Could they truly balance family and work?

His mouth caressed her neck, and she shivered, then pushed him off. “This is how we ended up like this in the first place,” she commented, but it wasn’t without a smile and a nudge against his nose with her own. “Let’s get some sleep and we’ll talk tomorrow.”

The next morning, she woke with nausea and an aching head. Sighing and forcing herself to breathe through her nose, she turned her head into her fiance’s shoulder as he embraced her. “You. You did this to me.” Now that she knew what the cause of it was, she could freely blame him.

“If I did my calculations correctly, you were on top that night,” Ringabel teased, his hand threading through her hair.

“I’m going to throw up on you,” she threatened, but really, she wouldn’t. Who liked puking? And she was really fond of this particular sheet set.

Ringabel kissed her forehead. “I suppose I have to get used to being thrown up on?”

She made a face at him. “Ew, Ringabel. Just ew.”

He laughed. It brightened her day to see him so spirited, when lately they had barely had time to talk, let alone lie in bed like this. Now with the baby on the way, she supposed they would have to make time for each other, and for their child when it came.

“We can stay like this a while longer,” she decided. His arm was wrapped tight around her as he held her, their hands intertwined over her belly. He was warm and comfortable, and made her feel secure.

“We should cancel our meetings,” he mused. “Stay in bed all day with each other.”

“Not today,” she replied, heart sinking. “Maybe tomorrow.”

The doctor had cautioned her that while she was in no particular danger of losing her pregnancy, there was always the chance with any woman that she might miscarry in the first trimester, and for that reason, she may want to be selective with who she informed. The baby’s father, of course, but it was their choice if they wanted to share the news with others until she’d past that milestone. She explained this to Ringabel as they dressed, but he pouted.

“Can we tell your parents, at least? I think they would want to know either way.”

She chewed her lip. It would be nice to have her mother’s support… and Father would want time to prepare gifts and presents. He was really big on making things himself nowadays, but it still took him time to complete projects. “Alright,” she finally said. “But just them.” Even if she wanted to tell Tiz and Agnes, and Yew and Magnolia, along with her Master, very badly.

They used the pendant, or what little piece they had of it, to call her parents, who were still living on the other side of the world in Yulyana Woods.

“What’s wrong, Edea?” her father asked once he had actually answered. Edea knew from her last visit that they kept the pendant on the mantle, in a box that let the light through if it started shining, but they didn’t always pay attention to the box every moment of the day. “It’s not like you to call us.”

“I know,” she said, smiling. Her mother came into view. “But there was something I needed to tell you, and it’s been so busy I didn’t know if I could get away to come visit.”

“Tell us?” Braev asked, his brows furrowed. “What is it?”

Edea glanced at Ringabel for strength and, encouraged by the smile on his face, went for it. “I’m pregnant.”

She counted: Braev Lee blinked at her a total of four times. Beside him, Mahzer clapped with glee, bouncing slightly on her heels. The woman reached forward to snatch the pendant from her husband.

“Are you truly, Edea?” Mahzer asked. Edea could see just how wide her mother’s smile was.

“Yes,” she said. “I’m due in late winter. February or so, they said.”

“You’re not wed yet!” Braev shouted from behind Mahzer. She ignored him and moved away.

“We’ll be married soon,” Ringabel promised. “We’ve been having difficulty scheduling the wedding, but once she’s closer, we’ll push some things around and get it done.”

“Why not marry now?” Mahzer suggested gently. “All you need is to sign the paperwork. You can have the ceremony later, when there’s time. Just let us know when you intend to get the paperwork filed, and we’ll come into town as witnesses.”

That was… a brilliant idea, and would solve all the problems Edea and Ringabel had encountered in scheduling their wedding. Edea looked up at Ringabel, who looked as shocked as she. Why hadn’t they thought of it before?!

Braev came back into the picture. “You should be wed as soon as possible. We’ll leave tonight to come to Eternia.”

Edea groaned. “Father, there’s no need to do that. Besides, the doctor said that before twelve weeks, there’s always a possibility that - ”

Mahzer shook her head. “There always is, but Edea dear, don’t you intend to marry him regardless? Either way, I think you’ll find the marriage may help. ” Edea flushed, feeling somewhat ashamed. Mahzer knew her fears; Edea knew the many reasons she was an only child.

“She has a point,” Ringabel whispered to Edea. “I intend to be wed to you one way or another. What’s the harm if we have a civil ceremony with just family?”

She bit her lip. “Alright,” she agreed. There  _was_  an advantage in marrying her husband well before the baby’s birth. No one could say that she was unfaithful, or call into question the legitimacy of her child.

“Wonderful,” Braev said. “We’ll be there by the end of the week.”

Edea groaned. She knew she should have waited to tell them! Now she was going to have to clear up an evening.

“We’ll see you then,” Ringabel said cheerfully, and closed the connection. He turned to the woman beside him, rubbing her back. “Do you want the others to attend?”

“We have to invite them,” Edea admitted. “They’ll be hurt if they don’t witness the ceremony, even if it’s a civil one. I’ll call Agnes now.”

Ringabel held the pendant out of her reach. “ _I’ll_  call Agnes, and Yew as well. You go take a bath and get ready for the day. I think you need the break.“

Not for the first time, Edea wondered how he could be so sweet, right when she needed him the most. Things were moving so quickly, which she normally had no problem with, but this was something else entirely. It was making her head spin and her stomach churn.

"Right,” she said, kissing him on the cheek and leaving him to it.

It took a full week for everyone to make it to Eternia; Braev still had his old airship, the Templar’s Judgement, and had taken a detour to pick Tiz and Agnes up from Caldisla so that they didn’t have to take a ship to Gathelatio’s port. Together, the four of them, along with Yew and Magnolia made their way to Eternia for a quick wedding.

The day of their appointment at the clerk’s office, Edea felt nervous as she sat at the table and attempted to eat breakfast, though she knew it was silly. This was just to sign paperwork, and possibly get dinner, and it wasn’t the actual wedding, even if it would make Ringabel and herself official. It was about time, all things considered. Baby aside, they had been living together for a while now, and it had truly only been the lack of time preventing them from wedding before. Yew and Magnolia were in a similar situation.

“Edea,” she heard a deep voice say, and whirled around to see her Master standing in the doorway of the room. Minette was right behind his heels, the young woman waving to her.

“Master!” Edea said, rising to r- to walk to him, grasping his arms when they reached each other. “Where have you been?”

Kamiizumi had developed the habit of disappearing for months at a time. Edea knew that he lived in Florem right now, where Minette could be around nature and humans both, but he was difficult to get a hold of, even with his own part of the pendant.

“Your father reached out to me,” Kamiizumi explained, patting Edea on the shoulder. “He first needed advice, then invited me to this day. He thought you would want me to be here.”

“I don’t mind,” she said, nodding. She’d wanted to keep this small, truly limit it to a signing of the paperwork, and though she knew they  _did_  need witnesses, she wasn’t sure they’d need so many now.

Minette came around to hug her around the waist. For a moment, panic surged in Edea as she recalled just how strong the younger girl was, but Minette was gentle, burying her face into Edea’s shoulder. “Congratulations, Edea!” she said. “You’re going to be a good Meowther.”

Kamiizumi looked flabbergasted, stepping back. “You’re expecting?”

“You didn’t know?” Edea gasped. Then, she turned to to Minette. “Wait, how did  _you_  know?”

Minette winked. “Cat instincts.”

Oh, of course.

“That explains the urgency of the wedding,” Kamiizumi mused, stroking his chin. “And why Braev was so frantic.”

Edea buried her face in her hands, right as Ringabel emerged from their room bedroom, freshly bathed.

“Master Kamiizumi, Minette… what are you doing here?” he asked, addressing both the man and his adopted daughter.

Minette bounded over to Ringabel, leaving Edea behind. “Congratulations!” With Ringabel, she had no qualms about pouncing on him, knocking him down. She nuzzled into his shoulder even as he weakly tried to save himself. “You’re going to have a litter!”

“I don’t know about litter,” Edea said nervously, shaking her head.  "It’s probably just one.“

She hoped.

The ceremony, if it could be called even that, took place in a small room in one of the courthouses. Edea and Ringabel signed the marriage certificate in front of a High Clerk and eight witnesses, four for each of them, though the law only called for two each. Exchanging a kiss with Ringabel for the sake of her parents, Edea found herself having to sit down before the ink was even dry.

Agnes sat on one side of her, wrapping the other girl in her embrace. "Edea, thank you for inviting me! I’m so happy for you.”

Edea leaned against Agnes, watching a red-faced, sweaty Ringabel speak to the others. He hid her slightly from view, and as her mother sat on the chair on the other side, she was even more protected. “Thank you,” she said, feeling a pang of guilt. She and Ringabel had decided not to tell the others about her pregnancy, even though Yew had commented on the quickness of the ceremony. She was sure the boy suspected; always too smart, that one.

“We just haven’t had time for the ceremony itself, and figured we may as well sign the paperwork to make it official anyway,” Edea explained. “When we finally set a date, you’ll be the first one to know.”

And, once she hit that 12 week mark, the first to know about the baby, Edea added silently. Promise.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As she heads into her second trimester, she encounters some challenges...

The remaining six weeks of her first trimester passed in a blur. For Edea, it was almost like nothing had changed. She still worked, thankfully, with no restrictions on her movements, though her doctor advised her that she should be careful when exercising, which Edea had been lax with anyway. She still stayed up late to finish paperwork, and had lots of sweets for dessert, and cuddled with her new husband on a regular basis.

The only difference was that she found that sometimes, she had to watch what she ate for those occasional very late night meals. Heavy meals made it more likely she'd actually throw up, which she quickly learned she detested. She also had to sleep in more, frustratingly tired for no particular reason than the obvious, and naps in the afternoon between meeting became common. Ringabel was more careful around her, more gentle, and while that too, was frustrating most of the time, other times she was touched by his thoughtfulness as he cared for her when he was too busy to look after herself.  It made her cry, more than once.

But even when she realized that her pants were getting tight and the hardness in her belly was proof of her real baby and not a food baby for once, she had felt very little fanfare over it. Maybe later, when her bump was more obvious in the mirror and she could feel the baby moving. Right now, she wanted to focus on her work and making sure that the world she brought her child into would be one that was relatively more peaceful.

One day, Edea woke up and stretched. It was a nice day outside, semi-clear, not too cold. She rolled over into Ringabel and tucked herself into his side, noting that he was still asleep, though his eyebrows furrowed slightly. A nightmare, or just his desire to stay asleep despite the wiggly woman beside him? Then it hit her, as she watched him. She felt great; not exhausted, not nauseated, and not sore. That was very rare these days. Tugging Ringabel's arm, she shook him until he woke, one of his hazel eyes opening to stare blurrily at her.

"What is it?" he asked, stretching his legs slightly. His other arm came up to wind around her shoulders to hold her tight.

"Let's have sex," she said excitedly. They hadn't been very intimate as of late, because Ringabel had wanted to be careful, and because most of the time she just wasn't feeling up to it, but now… Now, nothing could hold them back!

Ringabel flushed. _That_  woke him up. "Are you… sure?" he asked, eyes darting to the calendar they'd hung up in their room. Just a few days ago, the date he'd circled in red with little hearts around it had passed. 12 WEEKS, it said. They'd both come home late that night and gone straight to sleep.

"I'm sure," she replied, wiggling against him. He looked so embarrassed! "You know you want to."

He laughed now, reaching his hand up to scrub through his disheveled hair. "I do," he admitted, and then sat up to stretch his arms up and out. "12 weeks," he said, as though in disbelief, leaning slightly against her. 

She wrapped her arms around him and squeezed. "It's official! We're having a baby!"

It was official, definitely official now. The date her doctor had given her as the end of her first trimester may have come and gone, but the feeling of finality was what made it truly clear to her.

For the first time, she felt truly excited, knowing that in a few short months, she would be holding their new child in her arms. She would be bringing new life in the world to start their family. That… this was really happening. She almost couldn't be believe it.

Ringabel rolled over, pinning her gently to the mattress. She giggled with him as he nuzzled against her skin, the giggles fading off to more quiet noises that they shared together.

Soon though, they had to get out of bed to prepare for the day. Edea managed to pull away from Ringabel long enough to hop into the bath and wash herself, and she was in the middle of sudsing up when she realized something.

"Oh, I need to call Agnès." She stuck her head out of the shower curtain to address Ringabel, who was sitting in front of the vanity washing his face. She made a face at him. "I hope you're going to shower today, too."

"Of course I am," he replied, but she had her doubts if he was washing his face already.

"Anyway, can you pass me the pendant? I want to call Agnès."

He glanced at her. "In the bath?"

"Just hand it over!" It wasn't indecent with all the bubbles, geez.

Agnès, of course, had already been awake for some time, and given that she still wore her part of the pendant around her neck as always, answered immediately. "Good morning, Edea! A… are you in the bath?"

There was a crash as Tiz knocked over something behind her her. Edea ignored it, and the way that Ringabel started laughing. "I am. I told you I would tell you first thing when we scheduled the wedding ceremony, didn't I?"

Agnès gasped, clasping her hands together. "Have you? When is it? We'll be sure to come, of course."

That wasn't what she'd meant to say. Edea gave the other woman a guilty smile. "We still don't know. But, I do have some other news for you."

Agnès tilted her head.

"I'm pregnant," Edea said, unable to stop the grin that spread over her face. "Ringabel and I are expecting."

Agnès gasped again. Behind her, Tiz popped into view, his eyes wide. Then, the shepherd flushed and looked away when he realized Edea _was_  actually in the bath.

Ringabel kneeled beside the edge of the tub to address his two friends as well.

"When is the baby due?" Agnès asked excitedly, practically bouncing in her seat. 

"In February," Edea explained, smiling. She'd had several appointments since her first, and they had determined her due date more accurately. She'd even gotten to see a 'sonogram' of the baby's development, though it just looked like circles and blobs to her.

"That's…" Agnès counted on her fingers. "Only a few months away!"

"Six," Edea corrected. "I was told to wait until I was out of my first trimester before telling too many people. I'm sorry I didn't let you know sooner…" She'd been scared of dealing with the pity if the worst happened.

Agnès shook her head. "That doesn't matter. It was your decision. But oh…"

"That explains the wedding," Tiz commented, looking thoughtful. "I owe Yew a thousand pg."

The other three stared at him. "You bet on me being pregnant?" Edea asked, growling slightly. Ringabel rocked back onto his heels, away from her and any fists she might swing.

"No!" Tiz defended, then sighed, hanging his head down in shame. "Yes. Yew thought it was odd you were getting married so fast, but I thought Ringabel would be more responsible than that."

"I'll have you know," Ringabel cut in, offended. "Edea was in charge that night of conce-eep!"

She'd splashed him with soapy water.  "Shut up, Ringabel!"

Tiz was red, a deep scarlet she could see even through the slight warp that came along with using the pendant. "We didn't need to know that!" the shepherd insisted to the other man in a low hiss.

Agnès was smiling despite the conversation around her. "Congratulations, Edea. Do you know if it will be a boy or girl yet?"

"In a couple of months," Edea replied. Her father had already started working on a wooden crib set for them, but he'd been pestering her every week for additional information on the baby so he could get to work on clothes. Actually, she and Ringabel hadn't done much shopping for the baby either. She'd been too busy. "I'll let you know when we know."

"Oh good."

The girls continued to chat for a few minutes before Edea decided to cut the connection so she could keep getting ready for the day. Ringabel hopped into her discarded bath water once she was done, and she dressed for a day full of work.

Time moved quickly.

The following week, she realized that her pants weren't fitting anymore, and she moved to stretchier leggings that could accommodate her growing belly. Ringabel made sure she kept warm, piling layers upon layers on her that honestly, she might as well have worn her pants anyway, because no one would have noticed the button undone under everything else.

Somehow, in the commotion, word slipped out that the Grand Marshal and her husband were expecting their first child. Flowers, gifts, and congratulations poured in from the soldiers of the army, as well as the nobility in the city. 

Most of the gifts, Edea could gently recirculate to children and families less fortunate, though she kept the ones from the more important people, to prevent hurt feelings. Still, they had to figure out what to do with them; they only had so much room in their… rooms.

"Maybe we should move," Ringabel suggested one night to her. She was cuddled against his side, her swollen belly pressed into his hip. "Out of Central Command and to a real home."

She looked at him, shocked. "We can't do that!"

"Sure we can," he laughed. "You're the Grand Marshal. You can do what you want. Besides," he added, tapping her nose with a finger. "Eternia isn't at war with half the world anymore. The Grand Marshal has no need to reside in Central Command so long as you live nearby."

She bit her lip, thinking. They had been expanding around Central Command to make way for real homes for the soldiers, get them out of the barracks, and get them families. But it would still be a military town, and she wasn't sure she wanted to live there forever. Living in the city of Eternia meant close shops, and restaurants and people around, and when she had the baby - wouldn't she want it to grow up with other children around? It also meant traveling an hour or two every day for work...

"I'll think about it," she said, nestling her head against his shoulder. Even mostly nude, he was very warm, and she had been leaching that warmth off him lately. "It's not a bad idea."

"It doesn't matter to me," he responded, squeezing her gently, taking care to avoid her midsection. "My home is wherever you and the baby are."

"You sound so cheesy when you say that," she replied, making a face. 

"Well, it's true!" he laughed, rolling slightly to avoid the tap to his shoulder. "We'll make it work. You'll see."

The next morning when she woke up, she had made her decision. A home in the city would be good for them. Central Command was a base, not a house, and hardly the best place to raise a child. She knew that well. She wanted her baby to have the childhood she couldn't, one of warmth and a close family, and a home they could grow up in.

"We'll go out and look," she promised Ringabel as they prepared for the day. "Not today but… this weekend."

The weekend came and went. Edea found herself unable escape the duties that came with being the Grand Marshal, and Ringabel ended up having to stay in the infirmary after one of his trainees broke a leg during drills.  She promised herself that they'd go the _next_  weekend, even if she had to stay up all night getting ahead of work.

The problem was, there was so much paperwork. She had no idea how her father had done all of this. No, she knew. That was what the Council of Six was for. Braev had taken control of most of the military aspects, Victor took care of the medical aspects, and Alternis took care of more of the citizenship tasks when he wasn't acting as messenger. She knew even Victoria had her part, working with Braev on military projects when she wasn't in treatment for her illness.

But there was no more Council of Six. No more Victor or Victoria to confer with on the constant medical reports coming from the Healing Towers, or to even filter through all the papers. Braev was retired, and unavailable to offer assistance, and while Edea had given Ringabel most of the power over the military, he still had to run major decisions by her. And that left no one to handle the civilian reports. The census was coming up soon, and they needed to prepare for that. One of the roads between Central Command and Eternia was crumbling and needed repairs, and she needed to find a company to take on the work, which meant vetting dozens of different contractors.

It was all… so much. Every night was later than the last. Sometimes she even got out of bed with Ringabel to finish up her work for the evening. _That_  was flirting with danger. Ringabel was a light sleeper and woke up easily, especially if the bed were empty. He'd mostly gotten over it by now, considering all the times she'd gotten up in the middle of the night to use the restroom in the past months, but she still had to be careful not to be gone too long.

Ringabel found her one night after several weeks, asleep at her desk, head cushioned on an arm. He nudged her awake with a gentle hand, kneeling beside her. 

Edea lifted her head, drool trailing from her mouth. His eyebrows were furrowed as he looked over her, his eyes hovering on the hand that cradled the growing bump in her stomach. 

"You should go to bed," he said, voice firm. " _In_  bed. Why don't I take over?"

She grumbled, rubbing at her eyes and wiping her mouth. "I'm almost done," she murmured.

He said nothing, but pointed a finger at her desk. Edea looked down; the stack of paperwork she'd been working on had been drooled on, and the ink wasn't waterproof. The carefully copied figures and letters had smudged.

She cursed.

"Ah ah," he said, his tone light. "Do you want to use that sort of language around the baby?"

She cursed again.

Ringabel shook his head. "I have the originals in my office. You go back to sleep and I'll make another copy. Then we'll go over it tomorrow."

She groaned. They'd planned on going to Eternia to find a house the next day! This was the third time they'd had to reschedule, now. "Not tomorrow. I promised we'd…"

"I know," he said, smiling gently. "We'll figure something out. But you have to sleep, and sleep in a bed. You're pushing yourself too much."

She didn't have the energy to argue with him, and three in the morning wasn't the best time for an argument to begin with. "Fine," she finally replied after a few moments of chewing on her bottom lip. "Goodnight, Ringabel."

He leaned down to kiss her forehead as she stood, her back creaking at the movement. "Goodnight."

The next day, he roused her shortly after dawn. She wasn't sure he'd slept, considering that he downed one cup of coffee and started on another as she ate breakfast, but didn't want to ask. Instead, she inquired about work. "Did you finish copying the reports?"

Ringabel gave her a look over his second cup. "I finished them all for you. The numbers are all done."

She gaped at him. "Ringabel!" Those were the new figures for the land that she wanted to clear around Central Command. The base of the mountains was planned to be leveled and carved out to make room for more buildings. It was a project she'd been working on for months, and he'd just finished it in a day?

He smiled at her. "You can look over it tonight, when we get home. For now, we need to find a home."

She sighed. He was right.

Down to Eternia they went, and met up with the realtor that Ringabel had convinced her to hire. The woman had promised to make their lives easier, finding properties for them so that they didn't have to do as much research themselves. Anything would help, Edea had figured.

She had several houses for them to look at, but between looking at the floor plans and prices, Edea wasn't sold on any of them. She wanted a house that would be large enough for them to expand their family beyond just the baby she carried now, while also having room for their hobbies, a home office, and a good kitchen. The kitchen was important. All the houses lacked… something. Too few rooms, not a big enough kitchen, too far away from Central Command...

Ringabel thumbed through the pile of paperwork. "We can always expand on the house later," he reminded her. "We aren't going to have more children for a few more years."

She shook her head. "We can if we must, but I'd rather find something now." Expanding meant contractors, and builders, and…

The realtor looked discouraged. "Well, I was going to check out a property today. Do you want to come with me? It's a large manor that just went up on the market last week."

"We'd be delighted," Ringabel replied for them both. "And while we're at it, maybe we can look at some of these in person as well?" Seeing Edea glare at him, he glared back at her. "Maybe we need to see these places beyond just the floor plan."

They didn't need to.

The house they viewed first, the one recently vacated when its owner moved to  Eisenberg, was perfect. It sat on a large lot toward the north of the city, close to Central Command, and could easily have a direct path to the base built through the mountains. It was spacious, with three stories and a small basement complete with wine cellar. There were plenty of rooms, including a master suite that consisted of bedroom, bathroom, sitting space, _and_  study that took up almost the entire third story. There were so many rooms that Edea wasn't sure what they could even use them all for, unless she and Ringabel decided to have a dozen children (which she was fairly certain they wouldn't). There was a shed in the back that would be perfect for woodworking, and a covered garage that still held an old, run-down carriage, not to mention a small building for any staff they might need to hire. And the kitchen? Was ginormous, with both a breakfast room and a dining room, and two different kitchen islands. 

It was perfect.

She loved it.

Edea stood in the middle of a small study on the first floor, circling the room. There was another room attached to it, and a small bathroom between them. She could use this as an office and have the baby nearby in the next room, though they would have to have the child's actual room be upstairs where she and Ringabel would be. As she stood and thought, she noticed the realtor watching her with bated breath.

Ringabel had disappeared into the wine cellar and now returned with a bottle. "They left some of their wine here!" he said.

"I can't have any," she reminded him with a frown. The previous owners had left some of their other furniture behind as well, including an old sofa in the sitting room on the second floor, and some antique coffee tables. 

"We could save it for later," he grinned at her, not fazed by her grumpiness.

She hummed to herself and turned away, rubbing at her belly. The curtains had been drawn back on the first floor for the walkthrough, so she had a good view of the city from where she stood. She could see the wall that lined the western half of the city, and many of the buildings. From the other side of the house, she knew could see Central Command, and a few of the small mountain paths that could lead to it. And from the master bedroom, she'd have an unobstructed view of the healing towers.

Ringabel came up behind her and wound an arm around her shoulders. "I bet we can get the mountain path paved in less than a couple of weeks so a carriage can fit through it. And it'll be shorter than going through the gate."

She groaned. "I know. I was thinking the same thing." And with the mountains on either side, they might even be able to eventually build a tunnel that could remain relatively unobstructed of snow in the winter months… that would make the trip so much easier, especially as she got bigger. They could get back and forth between home and the Central Command within half an hour or less.

And then she thought back to the room on the third floor that had shared a hallway with the master suite. It had been painted a pastel yellow with clouds on the upper trim.

Edea turned to the realtor. "When can we sign for it?"

They bought the manor that afternoon, paid fully in pg with their shared bank account and some of the funds her father had set aside years ago for his own personal expenses as Grand Marshal. He wasn't using it anymore, after all, and had previously told them that they could use it if they wanted. Furniture to begin filling out the rooms was planned to be delivered by the end of the week.

They would keep their rooms in Central Command sparsely furnished with a bed, tables, and a dresser full of clothes, just in case, but the very first night that they spent in their new home was… wonderful.

Edea stretched out on the bed in the master bedroom, staring up at an unfamiliar ceiling. The lights from the city were visible through the sheer curtains they'd found in storage. They would have to get light-blocking curtains for the windows on the east side, but for now it would suffice.

Ringabel was in the restroom, washing up for the night. She had already had a long bath. They'd both excused themselves from their duties early so that they could celebrate their new home, and had gotten dinner delivered by the best restaurant in the city, eating it together in their brand new dining room. Already, she was imagining meals together as a family, not just a couple, though she knew that realistically the baby wouldn't be eating solid foods for quite some time. Still, the mental image was nice.

As she rubbed at her belly, lost in her thoughts of the future, she felt something kick against her hand.  Gasping, Edea sat up to stare at her stomach. She had been feeling the baby move for some time, but so far nothing that could be felt from the outside. Until now.

"Ringabel!" she shouted.

Something crashed in the bathroom. She cringed; it sounded like he had fallen in the bath. Biting her lip and trying not to feel too guilty as he banged around in the other room, she waited for him to emerge, his hair wild and wet, stuck to his face, and a towel haphazardly wrapped around his hips. "What is it?" he asked, crossing the room with a slight limp, as water streamed down his legs. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong," she clarified, feeling a little guilty as he immediately relaxed, pushing his hair out of his eyes. "I just felt the baby kick."

Any irritation she might have seen flit across his face vanished in an instance, replaced by delight. "You did? I want to feel," he said, and he sat on the edge of the bed, reaching out with his hand to touch her stomach. Grasping his wrist, she guided him to the place where the baby had kicked her palm just moments before.

Both of them held their breath as they waited for the movement from earlier. Just when she thought that perhaps it had just been gas, there was the tiniest of kicks against Ringabel's hand. His grin, if it were possible, grew wider.

"I feel it!" he said in a hushed tone, tapping his fingers gleefully. "Strong little fellow, isn't he?"

"Or she", Edea promptly reminded him. They would be going in a couple of weeks to try and find out the sex of the baby, but it was still up in the air.

"She," he amended, nodding. "She'll probably be very strong."

He had to return to the bath, not least to drain the tub, but also to dry off properly. When he returned, he immediately plastered himself to her side to continue patting her stomach, holding his breath each time that he felt the tiniest of movement under his palm.

Edea watched his face closely, noticing how easily he smiled each time he felt the baby's movements. Any trepidation she had about this being the right time to start a family with him was vanishing. She could make it work. _They_  would make it work, together.

But by the end of the month, it was as though an itch was under her skin. An itch she couldn't scratch, not helped in the least by the fact that she couldn't escape Ringabel for hardly more than five minutes at a time. He ate with her, slept with her, and insisted on accompanying her to all of her doctor's appointments. It made her want to scream and hide, if only for the peace. 

She put up another calendar, circling milestones in black marker. The first one to arrive was the day that they would find out the gender of their child.

"It's a boy," the technician said to the waiting couple that day in the Central Healing Tower. Edea still wasn't really sure how to read the weird black-and-white image, but she could at least identify the features once they were pointed out to her, that clearly stated her child was male. 

"A boy!" Ringabel said, grinning down at her and practically vibrating. "I told you so!"

Edea frowned at him. "Don't rub it in," she said, trying not to take it personally. They had been tossing ideas of names back and forth, but hadn't settled on anything just yet, wanting to wait until the baby's gender was revealed. They'd had some favorites, obviously, but Braev had mentioned wanted to customize the crib that he was making, as well as the little hats and socks he was knitting. She knew Ringabel wanted a son, but…

She swallowed hard. No, she was only upset because she hadn't slept much the night before, or anytime in the past few days. Living an hour away from Central Command meant that she was had two less hours in the day to sleep, even if Ringabel had bought a carriage so that she could read reports while he drove them back and forth each day.

Ringabel's smile faded. "I - " He pressed his lips together and glanced up toward the technician, who was watching them. Smiling again, he nodded to the other man. "Thank you. You said something about giving us a copy?"

Once they were left alone, Ringabel turned back to her. "I'm sorry," he said, and she could detect a hint of bitterness in his voice. "I'm just happy."

She sighed, though it came out more of a huff. "I know," she replied, trying to soften the tone of her voice. "A girl would have been just as good."

"Of course she would have been!" he said, astonished she would think otherwise. "I would be just as happy. How could I not be?"

Edea swallowed. There was no point in starting an argument with him here, of all places. Not when they were in public. "We'll talk about it later," she mumbled, turning her face away.

They did not. When they returned home for the evening - Edea had cleared her entire afternoon and night for the appointment and subsequent calls to friends and family - the two of them acted as though the conversation had never happened. Edea didn't want to argue with him about something so trivial, not when one of the contractors they'd hired to clear out the mountains had had to back due to issues within the company, and they were scrambling to find a replacement.

Ringabel rubbed her back as she sat in bed after dinner, looking over the paperwork for two other companies.

"We should think about names," he said.

"Names?"

"For the baby?"

She groaned; he'd just hit a sore spot, and if he dug in his fingers - yes, yes like that - "We don't have time," she mumbled once he'd eased out some of the soreness. 

"Of course we have time!" he replied, raising his eyebrows. "Dear, you don't want to keep working until the day the baby is born, do you?"

"I don't _want_  to," she snapped at him. No one wanted to work that much, obviously. Not even Alternis, who had been the worst workaholic she'd ever met had… Alternis. Thoughts of her childhood friend sprung unbidden into her mind,  and tears pricked at her eyes. Any dissatisfaction that she felt over the fact that she was having to work when she least wanted to was gone, replaced with a deep ache in her chest.

Ringabel had seemed annoyed with her when she first snapped at him, but when the first tear slipped down her cheek, his irritation vanished. "Edea," he implored, grasping her shoulders gently. "What's wrong?"

She shook her head, unable to explain to him what had caused this fit. Alternis was still a sore topic, one she had yet to fully breach with anyone. She instead leaned into him, closing her eyes and letting him soothe her with caresses to her shoulder and back.

Once the crying fit had subsided, she felt exhausted. Her whole body ached as much as her heart. Stretching out into the bed, she buried her face in her pillow and decided on an early evening for sleep, promising herself that she would get up early the next to finish work. Ringabel tried unsuccessfully for some time to get her talk before he seemed to give up, stretching out beside her instead. She fell asleep to the feeling of his hand rubbing her stomach.

The next morning, she woke early, rudely pulled out of dreary dreams by an alarm clock. Rolling over to the side, she noticed the bed was empty.

Ringabel was asleep on the couch in the office. It was there for emergency naps to begin with, but … she stood in the doorway and watched him sleep for a few minutes, his brows creased, before grabbing her notebook from her desk and heading down for breakfast.

Choosing a contractor was easy once she left it up to fate. Shuffling the papers, she chose the two that ended up on the top of the pile and set them aside to have Bogue send a messenger later.

Due to the size of the manor, they had ended up hiring staff. A crew of housemaids that came twice a week to clean, Sinon the groundskeeper for repairs and maintenance, and a butler who kept an eye on the house during their long hours at Central Command. Bogue also helped when they were working from home as he did now, coming over with her breakfast.

"Can you have someone contact them and send a representative to Central Command by the end of the day?" Edea asked him, passing over the paperwork. 

Bogue set her plate in front of her and took the papers from her in his other. "Of course, ma'am."

She hesitated. "And, if it isn't too much trouble, do you think you could have Sinon take me to work? I think I'm going to let Ringabel sleep in."

The butler paused for just a fraction of a second before nodding. "I'll go find him."

Sinon was in his quarters in the back. A cheerful young fellow, he wasted no time in commandeering the carriage to take her through the mountains to Central Command and she spent a very peaceful, quiet morning going through reports from the officers training new soldiers.

It was well past noon that Ringabel came storming into their shared office in the tower. She took one look at the scowl on his face and stood up to get herself another cup of coffee.

"Sinon took you to work today," Ringabel said, pulling up a chair on the other side of her mahogany desk.

"He did. I wanted to let you sleep in," she replied, bringing over her coffee, along with a cup for him, too. He barely glanced down at it as she handed it to him.

"You didn't need to. I was worried about you when I woke and you were gone. I thought - "

She closed her eyes. "I'm sorry, Ringabel. I thought you needed your sleep. Isn't that why you slept on the couch?"

Ringabel went quiet, his hand clenched around the mug he held. "Is that what this is about?"

"It's not about anything!" she said, frowning. "If you want to sleep on the couch, you can. I know I toss around, and I talk in my sleep. I want you to be rested." It had taken him a long time to adjust to sleeping beside her. Frankly, she was surprised he managed to get through the night sometimes.

He sighed. "You should have woken me up, or at least told me where you would be."

Edea shook her head. "It's fine, Ringabel."

"It's not fine!" he snapped. Edea took a deep breath to keep from snapping back at him. She and Ringabel didn't argue very often, but when it happened, her first instinct was to start yelling. That wouldn't help in this situation. Her doctor had told her to keep herself calm. "I've been trying to keep an eye on you."

Another deep breath; she could feel her blood pressure rising. "Keep an eye on me? Ringabel, I'm pregnant, not disabled." 

"I _know_  that," he implored. "But what if something happens?"

"What's going to happen if I let you sleep in for a couple of hours and go to work?" she asked, laughing despite the situation. "You don't need to be attached to my hip all the time. Obviously, if you're sleeping elsewhere you feel the same way."

"I wanted to give you space," he replied, his frown sharp. "You wouldn't stop crying."

"And your solution was to just - leave me there?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I waited until you fell asleep," he pointed out.

Edea rolled her eyes. "So you wouldn't be there when I woke. You didn't even ask me if I wanted space. You just… assumed. Like you assume I'm helpless." She would have liked to roll over and be cuddled by her husband, but he hadn't even let her do that.

"I'm not - you're not - " Ringabel sputtered. "You're not _helpless_. I just - I worry."

Great. Guilt. Edea sighed. "Ringabel, why are you so worked up about this? It was just this one morning!"

"I woke up and you were gone. You weren't even in the manor. What do you think I thought?"

"Did you ask Bogue? He knew where I was."

Ringabel hesitated. "Well, no I didn't, but - "

She shook her head. "Ringabel look. You're getting yourself in a tizzy for no reason. Maybe I want to go to work early some mornings and don't need you tagging along." He was quiet, listening to her. She could see the tension in his arms, and the way that his jaw clenched, but at least he wasn't saying anything. She continued, looking at her desk as she sipped at her coffee. "We've been living together for months, and spending so much of our time together. We need some time apart occasionally. I got so much work here before you came in and wasted my time."

"I'm wasting your time now, am I?" he asked, his voice low. Edea looked up at him. He had ducked his face down so that she couldn't see his eyes. She inhaled sharply. She shouldn't have said it quite like that.

"No, you're not. I just don't want to spend time arguing with you when - "

"I'm going to work," he interrupted her, standing. She could see his knuckles were white. "I'm sorry for wasting your time, Grand Marshal. I'll send my reports later this evening."

"Ringabel!" She gaped at him from where she was standing. "You - calm down, please. It's - "

"I am calm, Grand Marshal," he said, and though his voice sounded calm enough, she could see that he was shaking. "Have a good day."

She silently watched him leave, the man closing the door firmly behind him. Leaning back into her chair, she took a deep breath. The baby kicked against her rib, and she glanced down at her belly and reached up with one hand to stroke. "You're mad at me too, aren't you?" she said jokingly. Despite her tone, though, she couldn't stop the tears that ran down her cheeks.

Ringabel stayed at Central Command overnight, citing the need to catch up on his work from the late start of his day. She went home alone that evening, ate dinner alone, and went to sleep alone for the first time in possibly months. It should have been a breath of fresh air, but instead…

"I'm sorry," Ringabel said the next day as he joined her for lunch. She listlessly poked at her pasta with a fork, leaning against him wordlessly as he dragged his chair close. "I don't know what got into me."

She hadn't slept well the night before, all alone in their manor. She wasn't in the mood to keep arguing with him. "Apology accepted," she said, reaching over to take his hand.

He squeezed her fingers. "I was thinking of names for the baby."

"Were you?" Names for the baby had been the last thing on her mind.

"Yes. How about Anazel?" he asked.

"Anazel? Really?" Frowning, she pulled away so that she could look at him. "Why would you want to name him that?"

Anazel was the name that Ringabel associated most with with his depression. Ever since returning from his travels as a dimensional officer, he had been seeing someone for his mental health. The things that he had gone through, both in his original world and also in the worlds that he had traveled since, had hurt him deeply. She knew he still had nightmares about it, having woken him from them more than once, and that there were times when the gravity of everything would catch up to him, leaving him in bed for a couple of days while he mentally recharged. His doctor had suggested that he associate a name with those times, so that he could separate himself as he was from it. He'd used the name Anazel, given that his official name was still Alternis and he needed to use that in professional environments at times.

"Well, I was thinking…" he started, intertwining his fingers with hers. "I want the name to mean something good. When I think about it, I want to think about something happy, and not something upsetting. And what could make me happier than our son?"

"Anazel Lee," Edea tested it. She could understand his reasoning.

"Anazel Ringabel Lee," Ringabel corrected, nodding. "He should have a middle name!"

"You just want to saddle some poor child with the same name as you," Edea laughed, but she leaned her head against his shoulder all the same. "Anazel Ringabel Lee." It didn't sound bad. She sort of liked it, but she still had some names of her own to toss around before they could make the final decision. "We'll talk about it," she decided, then kissed Ringabel on the chin. He hadn't shaved, and there was a fair amount of stubble.

Ringabel smiled back at her. "We'll talk about it," he agreed.

And talk about it they did. Ringabel managed to coax her into leaving Central Command early, and the two of them spent the rest of the afternoon and evening in their suite, talking about the baby's potential names. After a few hours going back and forth, even calling her parents for their input, they decided on Anazel after all. Braev protested the name at first, but then decided he would go to work on customizing a crib and some baby blankets for them. She appreciated it.

"Anazel, Anazel, Anazel," Edea said to herself as she and Ringabel got ready for bed, patting her tummy. She could feel the baby shifting under her touch, and when she poked him, he would push back. It was fun.

"I think he likes it," Ringabel said from beside her. His fingers traced across her taut, itchy skin.

"He'd better!" Edea replied, laughing. "It's his name from now on." Nestling back into her blankets, she turned slightly toward her husband, letting him continue to caress her belly as her fingers traced up his shoulders. "Ringabel, don't forget that I love you."

He looked up at her, eyes wide. "I would never forget your love," he said. "I love you too. What's brought this on?"

She shook her head slightly. "Nothing, really. I know we've been busy, and sometimes things are stressful, but…" but having to be without him for a night while they fought had been harder than she'd thought. She didn't want a repeat of it.

He leaned forward to kiss her forehead. "Dearest, I should be the one saying this to you. And it's not just because of your condition," he hastened to say when he saw her mouth open in protest. "It's because of who you are. You are the Grand Marshal, and that's a huge responsibility even when you aren't six months pregnant. I want to help you, and help you make Eternia strong and prosperous again, without resorting to war with half the world."

"I don't think you have to worry about me declaring war with anyone," she said, making a face. 

Ringabel grinned and rested his head against her shoulder. "I know. You're doing good, leading us."

"Don't you mean doing well?" she asked, patting the top of his head.

"No, I mean good. You're doing _good_."

It was on that uplifting note that she fell asleep some minutes later, her fingers loose in Ringabel's hair. When she woke, the warmth from the previous night still hung around her, and she enjoyed a few minutes of contentment, her eyes closed.

Then, the alarm went off. 

"Time for another day," Ringabel mumbled, rubbing at his eyes as he sat up. He had slept with his head on her shoulder through the night. "Are you ready?"

The alarm had triggered a headache in her, and when she shifted, she realized she had slept wrong and her back was aching. She bit her lip. She'd have to power through it. She still needed to finalize the contracts for the buildings today, and she didn't want to put it off any longer.

"Yes," she said instead, and waited for Ringabel to disappear into the restroom before dragging herself and her sore back out of bed.

As she passed the calendar on her way to the study, she marked off another day. 21 weeks down, and 19 left. At some point, she'd be able to relax and enjoy her pregnancy, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This may have been a bit choppy, but I'm trying to narrow down each trimester to its own chapter, lest I have a repeat of Covered in Daydreams.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Edea comes up on her third trimester, things continue to move, and things continue to change. Then...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, a warning. This chapter contains child death. I tried to keep it as respectful as possible, but it's still there.

The winter dawn was quiet, cozy, and far too bright for her liking. The sun's rays shone right into her eyes, one of the few downsides of the manor that she and her husband had mostly moved into. Grumbling, she turned her head away, hoping to roll over or tuck her face into the man's shoulder, but… she was stuck.

Squinting one eye open, she wiggled experimentally. Ringabel was grasping her from behind, his arms wrapped tight around her torso as he held her to him. On her other side, she was trapped by the large body pillow they had purchased to help support her belly and legs when she slept on her side. It was pink.

Edea sighed. She'd have to wake her husband up if she wanted to use the restroom, and ever since the baby had begun to drop, she'd been using it frequently. Right now, her child luckily seemed asleep as he often was in the early mornings, his movements muted and gentle in the womb. At least, he hadn't woken her up with a kick to the lungs this time, nor was he wedged close to her ribcage. He liked sleeping there.

"Wake up," she whispered, struggling to get out of bed. It was difficult now, given the largeness of her belly; the baby was defintely going to take after his father.

Ringabel groaned and squeezed her, but did not wake. 

Edea counted to thirty, rubbing her hands across her slightly itchy belly as she let him get a few more precious moments of sleep. Then, she rolled over enough that she could elbow Ringabel in the stomach, taking great pleasure in the way that he gasped awake.

"I need to get up!" she said, pushing her pillow to the floor to help make room.

Ringabel rubbed his eyes as he started to roll off of his side of the bed. "You could have asked nicely."

"I did," she lied. "You were asleep."

He went to the other side of the bed to give her a hand, pulling her up from her sitting position and off of the bed. Grimacing, Edea clutched him for a moment to steady herself, getting used to the change of her center of gravity now that she was standing.  

Ever since she had entered her third and last trimester, it seemed as though everything had ballooned nearly out of control. She had always been petite, and the largeness of her belly had made most physical activities difficult as soon as she had started gaining weight. However, until around 20 weeks, she'd been able to keep mostly in shape with stretches and katas, even if she had to be careful. Then, overnight, she had seemingly doubled in size. She hadn't seen her feet in weeks, much less touched them. Now, she even needed help standing, or she would look like, in Ringabel's words, a terribly sad and demented turtle.

He liked turtles, he assured her.

"What's the plan for today?" he asked between yawns as she waddled out of the restroom some time later. 

Edea shrugged and ran her hand over the writing desk nearby. The baby had woken and was now kicking against her stomach, making her feel nauseated. Still - "Breakfast, of course. Then we have a meeting with Sir Rogerson, to go over pest control for the east beaches."

"Right, the chompers are getting a bit out of control, aren't they?" He thought to himself a moment, then suggested. "Why don't I meet with him? You've a doctor's appointment tomorrow… you should get some rest."

"Ugh," she replied, grimacing. "I've done nothing but rest in the past couple of weeks, Ringabel! I'll be sitting down most of the day. It'll be fine."

She had been resting… relatively. Resting, for her, meant staying in bed or sitting down in a chair while she worked. That was fine, wasn't it? Eternia wouldn't wait for her pregnancy to be finished. It still needed to be run. Reports still needed analyzing, updates still needed to be documented. The work around Central Command was well underway now, but Edea still needed to hear how the progres was going at least once a week. Ringabel visited the construction sites once the foreman had banned her from physically going, but she still poured over all the information as much as she could. No one had been injured, yet, and it was going right on schedule. That was good.

He shook his head. "That isn't the same, and you know it. Remember what the doctor said about your blood pressure."

"I remember." She remembered… but she just had to take it easy and let Ringabel do all the stressing for her when she worked.

Ringabel looked her over for a long moment before he stood and crossed over to her. Once he reached her side, his hand slid over her stomach, seeking the movement of their unborn child under his hand. "Once he's born you can do all the work you want," he said.

She laughed. "Once he's born, I'm staying in bed!" 

"As I said, you can do all the work you want in bed."

Edea leaned against him, closing her eyes. Yes… part of the reason she was so determined to keep working was so that once their son was born, she could spend as much time as possible with him. She had to have all the loose ends tied up, or at least loosely gathered. That way, when she took some nicely deserved vacation, nothing could go wrong.

"Let's go," she told him. "The sooner we get started, the sooner we can return home."

"Let me shower, then."

She wished their manor had an elevator as she made her way down to the ground floor slowly and painstakingly.  Despite how awkward her movements had become, she detested being seen as invalid, and Ringabel had been snapped at more than once when he'd offered to help her down the stairs. One of the three maids they had hired to help around the house once Edea was no longer able to bend at the waist kept a close enough eye on her as she descended, giving her an update on how things were.

"The painters are coming today, aren't they?" Edea asked Lila, the brunette, and youngest of the trio. She was quite pretty, with green eyes and a bosom that Edea had once felt jealous of. She was also the only one who could take Edea's snappiness in stride, when it happened, and so was usually the one to see her first in the morning.

"That's correct, ma'am. They're going to fix up the paint in the study, as requested. And then, they'll leave paint samples for the nursery. Have you decided on what shade?"

As much as Edea had liked the pastel yellow initially, she'd fallen out of love with it. Ringabel had wanted more of a theme, and it was hard to plan something around yellow. They would have to change it now, while they still had some time before their son was born.

"Blue," Edea replied. "Maybe some shades of purple or red, just in case. Tell them to leave the samples and we'll get back to them."

"Of course."

By the time she reached the ground floor and started on breakfast that one of the other maids had made, Ringabel was following close after her. He picked up the paper that had been set on the edge of the table and began reading while she ate. Or tried to eat, at least.

She was feeling nauseated now at the smell of breakfast, something that was happening more and more as of late. Her sense of smell was sharper than ever, and her stomach was horrifically sensitive, almost as much as it had been in her first trimester.

Ringabel noticed her staring morosely into her oatmeal. "What's wrong, my dear?"

"Everything's fine, Ringabel," she was quick to reply, shaking her head. "Why does something always have to be wrong?"

He wisely said nothing immediate in response, merely sipping at his coffee while he looked at her. Edea squirmed; not only because she felt the pressure under his gaze, but because the baby had once again shifted on top of her bladder. 

"I'm not hungry," she finally confessed, pushing her hands onto the table so that she could stand.

"I know you may not be," Ringabel started, pushing her plate of bacon closer to her. "But you _know_  you need to try to eat, Edea. It's for the - "

She slammed her hands on the table. He jumped, and so did Bridgette, the maid who had been carrying in a plate of food for Ringabel. Both of them stared at her.

Abashed, she ducked her head against her chest. "Sorry," she said, blinking away the hotness in her eyes. Out of the corner of one, she could see Ringabel waving away the maid before he stood, and his arms wrapped around her.

"What was that about?" he asked, his voice soothing as he rubbed gently at her back. It both touched and infuriated her. He was so understanding of her mood swings nowadays… how dare he be so understanding! She pushed at him with one hand. "What did I do?"

"I can't eat well when the baby is pushing at my stomach," she said, trying to downplay the emotions boiling in her. "Please. Let's wrap it up and eat it on the way to Central Command."

"Very well," he said slowly, his voice too deliberately even, as though he was holding back some of his own emotions. "Let me have a few bites, and we'll be on our way." Breaking away from her, he called for Bridgette to return.

Edea busied herself with packing up the breakfast in a sturdy container, forcing herself to swallow down in a few bites as she did. Keeping herself busy in the home was always a good way to distract her from everything else; the weight of Eternia on her shoulders, and the weight of her unborn child in her womb.

With each passing day, it seemed so much heavier.

It was a week later that they settled on the color swatches for the nursery. As kitschy as some might have assumed a theme for their baby's room might be, Edea had toyed with the idea after hearing about it from others. She and Ringabel were both creative people, after all, and what better idea to personalize an exciting time in their life than to make it something special!

She had started working on baby clothes, alongside her father, though her items tended to be more knitted booties and hats (heavens knew that those would be essential in Eternia's climate), while his was a veritable army of blankets and thick shawls to use as wraps (which were also essential in Eternia). But having a special room for their special child, so that they could store all the presents he would get was important, too.

Her father had also finished a hand built crib, with the baby's name displayed proudly on the headboard. It featured runes for protection and health, signs he claimed he had found lying around in books in the Sage's old home. Edea believed him.

The crib had been delivered some weeks ago, and it now stood in a corner, with a deep blue blanket draped over the side. Braev had sewn it, and Mahzer had stitched in constellations, those that were visible from the night sky in Sage's Forest.  Seeing the blanket had given her an idea.

Ringabel loved the sky. As an airship pilot, he was intimately familiar with it, and with the stars that he had spent years studying how to navigate, in the event a ship's equipment ever went down. She knew that he had spent many day flying just staring off into the clouds. She'd often made fun of him for it. 

But she'd had the idle thought to incorporate the sky that he loved into the nursery for their baby, and it had since stuck. Ringabel, of course, had liked the suggestion, and he admitted that he too, wasn't exactly fond of the pastel yellow the walls had been. Now time was of the essence, if they were to change the room.

Edea liked the idea of the project. She wanted to keep busy, to keep from dwelling on the anxiety that she felt with each passing day. Ringabel was reading parenting books in what little free time he had, but she knew that he worried about his ability to be a good father, giving his lack of one for the first ten year of his life. Edea had tried to calm his nerves, but it was difficult when her own were frayed most days. Responsible for a country, and now for another life. It kept her up at night.

She alternated between binge-eating, gorging herself until she felt sick, and not eating at all, culminating in an incident where she had fainted in the library one day. Luckily, Ringabel had not been witness to it, as he had been on a trip with one of the platoons, but her maids had ratted her out once he had come home, and he'd read her the riot act over not taking care of herself in her state.

Having a project made her focus her efforts on something other than the aches she felt in the morning, or at night, or when the baby kicked her especially hard in the stomach. She could have fun planning what the room might look like, she and Ringabel picking out their favorite constellations he wanted to paint on the ceiling. And now, they just had to finish picking out the colors for the walls.

They would be light blue near the bottom, radiating up to a deep, almost black navy of the sky at its darkest hour, lit up only by stars and a beautiful full moon. Here and there, clouds would be seen, Ringabel decided, to break up the monotony of the dark blue, and they could hang up pictures and other items on the clouds, so it would look a bit neater than just sticking the pictures on the blue walls.

Given her state, there was limited help Edea could provide, but she sat in a chair in the door and watched Ringabel and Yew, who had been roped into helping, paint the walls one winter day.

"You missed a spot," she said helpfully as Yew painted over that ghastly yellow color with a simple white.

He let out a patient sigh. "The paint shop owner said it might take two coats to cover all of the yellow," he explained, not for the first time. "I'll go back over it in a moment, but we might need to come back in a few hours." Somehow, a spot of white tipped his nose.

Ringabel was sanding down old, faded paint from around the window. "And then we'll need to let it set overnight before going over it with the blue. If not, the colors might smear and we'll need to strip it and start over."

Edea felt tears come into her eyes at the mere thought. They were running close as it was; she didn't want it to take longer than necessary. She sniffled, and ducked her head down.

Yew had gotten very good at politely, if not nervously, ignoring her mood swings. The younger man cleared his throat and went back over the spot he'd previously missed, taking care that no more yellow could be seen.

Ringabel set down his tool with a sigh, turning to her. "Isn't Magnolia still in the kitchen?" The woman had insisted on cooking dinner for all four of them, since she and Yew would be staying for a few days to help out with the room painting. "Why don't you go help her?"

Edea shook her head, rubbing at her face. "I want to see the progress. Since you won't let me help."

"You didn't want to help!" Ringabel replied, his hands on his hips. "You whined."

Whined? Whined?! Ignoring the way that Yew shifted with discomfort, his painting increasing in speed and focus, Edea rounded on her husband, all sadness forgotten. "Whined? I didn't whine! I just said I didn't think I could reach the top of wall! Then you suggested we get help!"

"It was your idea to ask Yew to help," he reminded her, frowning. "It isn't as though he can reach the top of the wall either! Can you?" he asked the other man.

"Oh no," Yew said firmly. "You can leave me out of this argument, thanks."

"We're not arguing," Edea told him primly, though that didn't decrease the wary look in his eyes, nor the way he kept glancing at the door as though to make a run for it. "I'm just saying that it was Ringabel's idea to get another man to help, since he won't let me get on a simple stepladder!"

Ringabel scowled. "You know that's dangerous. What if you lost your balance and fell? You're not exactly the most graceful woman right now."

Yew set down his paintbrush on top of the paint can. "You know, I think I'm going to see how Magnolia is doing." Before either blonde could reply to him, he all but ran out of the room, leaving them alone. They eyed each other.

"See what you've done?" Edea asked, once she was sure Yew out of earshot. "You made him uncomfortable."

" _I_ made him uncomfortable?" Ringabel asked, incredulous. "I'm not the one who started arguing!"

"Yes you are," she replied shaking her head. "If you would just let me help-!"

"I'm don't need your help," he snapped, cross. Edea's mouth snapped shut, slightly taken aback. Ringabel rarely snapped at her, even when they argued. She hadn't heard his voice raise in months, not since that terrible fight in Central Command. Now, he was positively glowering at her, his eyes dark, hands wild as he gestured at her. "You've already fainted once, and I know you haven't been taking care of yourself. How can I trust you not to fall, when I can barely trust you eat, sleep, or …anything!"

Now that just wasn't fair. "Ringabel-"

"Don't _Ringabel_  me!" he said, and his hands clenched tightly before he seemed to regain control over himself and turn back away to the scrapper he had been using. He picked it up his hands, his knuckles white. "You're just getting in the way, Edea. You need to leave so we can finish. Go lay down. Just go."

"... this is my house," she tried to remind him. "And my baby's room. You can't kick me out!"

" _Our_  baby's room. _Our_  house," he said. He sounded exhausted, as though the act of arguing had sapped him of all energy. He had been more tired as of late. "Please dear, just go. I'm tired of always fighting with you."

"We're not…"

"Goodness!" Magnolia's voice drifted over to them. Edea turned to see the silver-haired woman as she came up the stairs, Yew right behind her. "You're still awake, Edea? I thought you would be in bed by now!"

It was such a ridiculous question that Edea temporarily forgot the argument she and Ringabel were having. "Why would I be in bed now? It's still daytime." Ringabel was quiet.

Magnolia crossed the distance between them and wound a strong, firm around Edea's shoulders, steering her out of the room. "But you must be so tired, carrying around that extra weight! I don't know how you can do it."

As she was pushed out of the threshold, Edea glanced back at Ringabel. He hadn't even turned to watch her leave.

Magnolia made her rest for the rest of the day, planting her in bed and insisting that she put her feet up and enjoy the few days of vacation that Edea had scheduled herself as a present for finishing up negotiations with Ancheim on imports last week. Along with the bedrest, Magnolia promised dinner in bed and truly marvelous dessert, but _only_  if Edea rested. She'd had no choice but to agree

After spending a few hours napping in the comfort of her very plush, very comfortable bed, Edea could admit that Magnolia had the right idea. Getting fed in bed later that evening was even better, even if it was Ringabel who delivered the tray.

Edea set her book aside and watched him enter. He placed it to the side and reached a hand to help her sit up just enough that they could thrust a pillow behind her back so she could eat properly. Once she was settled, he rested his hand against her belly for a moment, and she slipped her hand over his. They sat in silence, until her stomach grumbled.

"Eat your dinner first," he warned with a slight smile on his face as he placed the tray over her lap.

"I'll consider it," she replied, but she was hungry. So was the baby, judging by now active he suddenly was, his movements jostling the tray. Her mouth watered as she looked over the plate, piled high with goodies. Magnolia never skimped on portions. "Have you eaten already?"

"I have," he said. "With Magnolia and Yew."

Upon her first taste of the pasta, Edea felt her appetite spring back to life. Quickly, she started to eat. Ringabel watched her for a few minutes before he spoke up.

"Listen Edea, about earlier…"

"Don't," she said, swallowing a mouthful of noodles. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Well, I'm sorry," he said anyway, despite her insistence. "I shouldn't have said those things."

She wanted to ask if he _meant_  those things, but knew that if she did, the argument would just start anew, and she didn't want to fight when she was trying to eat. Or rather, she didn't want to fight with him at all, not when they had more important things to worry about. Their baby, Eternia, their life together… petty arguments took up time they didn't have.

She just shook her head. "You shouldn't have."

He pressed his lips together. After a few moments of awkward silence, with the only noise the sound of Edea chewing her food, he stood. "We finished both coats of white, but I'm going to double-check the room so we can be sure to begin painting on the blue tomorrow. How is that?"

She waved him off, nodding her agreement. When he finally wandered into bed late that night, she was only half asleep, but didn't protest the way that he cuddled her from behind, his mouth pressing against the back of her neck. Food and some rest had soothed her. She rolled over - wriggled over, all things considered - and kissed him back, murmuring her own apologies against his lips.

Yew and Magnolia stayed a few more days. The room was finished in that time, painted a beautiful blue gradient just as she had envisioned, and Edea had even been able to paint on some of the clouds herself, using a sponge and the rest of the white paint, on some of the lower portions of the room. 

Magnolia painted the moon on the ceiling, right in the center, insisting that she be the one to be sure to get all the details right.

"It looks wonderful," Magnolia said happily as they all stood back and looked the room over. Edea agreed that it truly did. The light blue at the bottom had craggy mountains for details, to help cover up some of the yellow paint that had been missed toward the trim (Ringabel's idea). Then, the blue darkened to a deep, navy color where they had painted stars in various constellations (which had Yew had supervised, given his study of astrology. Edea had suggested that they change into the Astrologer asterisk to help, but no one had listened). All in all, it looked great. Edea couldn't wait for the baby to see it, though she wasn't sure he would be able to actually _see it_ , considering how small he would be.

They had taken out all the furniture to paint, so there was still some work to be done, but Edea was satisfied with this for now.

For now.

-

It was the week before the end of the year celebration, and her bones felt sluggish. Her head felt foggy, and her back ached as though she were a 60 year old war veteran. It took a tremendous amount of effort to get out of bed that morning, something Ringabel noticed immediately. 

"You should stay in bed," he suggested, sitting beside her. His hands were soothing on her back. 

"It's fine," she said, sighing. Then, she jumped. Her midwife had warned her that she might feel minor contractions weeks before the baby was due, but it was still alarming to feel them, and if these were minor, she hated to see what the real deal would be like. She pressed her hands to her belly.

Ringabel was every bit the doting, worried father. "I know you wanted to keep working until your due date, but why don't you at least take this week off? No one is working right now. It's the holidays, dear."

She made a face at him. He wasn't wrong. While it may not have been the year of the reunion festival, people still wanted to celebrate the end of the year, and with it being the coldest parts of the year, even for Eternia, many businesses had already shut their doors. "I know it's the holidays, Ringabel."

"And our last before we become parents," he reminded her, and she had to smile at the way he waggled his eyebrows at her. "This time next year, we'll have the patter of little feet invading our lives and taking up every spare second we may have! Why not enjoy the time to ourselves before he's here?"

"He won't be walking that quickly," Edea replied. "Or he might. He's my son, after all. He'll be a prodigy."

Ringabel preened. "Our son. Don't forget me!"

"How could I?" Edea rolled her eyes. "He's going to come out looking like you. We both know it." Even with the grainy black and white of the ultrasound, Ringabel's nose was very obvious on the unborn child. Edea almost pitied him.

He grinned at her, and the sight of him so cheerful lifted her mood. He had been so anxious as of late, due to her aches and pains, and how taxing the pregnancy was on her. And she hadn't helped by fighting with him more often than usual. They didn't like going to bed angry at each other anymore, but more than once it had been a close call. Now, she leaned against him, closing her eyes.

"I'll work from home today," she compromised, and used him as leverage to stand, dragging herself to her feet. "After a long bath."

A long bath was had, and then a few long hours finishing up end of the year reports. The census would be starting in the first part of the year, and they had finished doing all the hiring of the people who would be gathering the information and compiling all the reports. Construction around Central Command was going well, though it would be slow until the end of February, when the worst of the snow would pass. Finally, they had established a line of communication with Ancheim to begin building airships there again. Edea looked forward to Eternia being more accessible to the outside world.

Ringabel sat beside her at her desk, adding his own notes to her work. As he was in charge of the military, she had decided to leave all of those reports to him. He was a grown man, after all. He could be trusted! And he wasn't as airheaded as he had been in his younger days. Actually, she thought that he was starting to look like a proper man, especially with the beard he had been growing. All good fathers had beards, he'd said.

A few days later found the two of them organizing their filing cabinet in the home office, one of the many rooms in the master suite. She had continued to work from home, and decided she would do until full functionality of Central Command started back up. In the meantime, most of the soldiers would get holiday vacations, except for the few younger ones without families, who would work in short shifts. It was the perfect excuse for her to take it easy as she continued to prepare for the baby's arrival. 

Anazel's room was fully furnished now, save for another shipment of clothes that Braev would be bringing over on his next visit. He had a crib, a dresser, and a toy box filled with toys that Edea knew he wouldn't be using for a few months. He wouldn't be using the crib either, as tradition and weather dictated that newborns sleep with their parents for a few months, but it was ready for him to take up residence in it all the same. They'd hung pictures on the wall, cute and bright animals that Ringabel had painted himself, and the mobile with farm animals that Tiz and Agnes had built was resting in the crib, waiting to be hooked up, added another cute touch. It was all _too cute_ , and Edea loved it.

"We could both use some fresh air," Ringabel suggested as he finished a file. He'd been looking out the window for hours. "Why don't you and I take a walk? We could even go shopping for clothes, if you'd like."

Edea gave him a look. "Whose clothes?" She had put off shopping for clothes for herself until she could fit into them again. It pained her, but what she bought now might not be in season when she was ready to use them.

"Clothes for the baby," he replied, smiling. "With the end of the year sales, I'm sure we'll find something nice for him."

"Ringabel, I think we have enough…" Wait, no, he was right. They had picked up a few outfits, but they hadn't bought near enough. Her mother had warned her that babies went through a lot of clothes.  A lot. She'd been meaning to buy more outfits, but hadn't quite found the time.

"See?" he said, noticing her pause. "And you can't make jackets. Not the good ones. Besides," he added, as though to seal the deal. "A snowstorm is going to blow in tonight. We could buy desserts from that store you like. You know they'll have to discount their sweets, or risk them going bad before they reopen in a few days."

"Fine, fine," she relented. She did love that sweet shop. The mere thought of shopping was lifting her mood. She'd been _resting_  and working and fixing up the manor for so long that she couldn't remember the last time she had done something truly fun. And Ringabel suggesting that she walk around? She needed to take advantage of his good mood. "Let's go."

Giggling, Ringabel pulled her up out of her chair, giving her a breathless kiss. He hadn't been shopping in about as long as she had been, and it was his second-favorite thing to do as well. "I'll tell Bogue to get the carriage ready," he said, and went downstairs, leaving her to waddle back into their room from the office. Edea cringed as she did; her steps were laborious. She had been sitting for hours at this point, and her back protested the motion, sending sparks of pain to her legs. For a moment, she reconsidered the idea of shopping, but the more she moved, the less it seemed to hurt. Perhaps she just needed to get more exercise? She shivered as she changed, taking care to go slow, to help ease the ache she felt.

Once she was dressed and wrapped up in a thick, very warm sweater, she made her way downstairs. Ringabel met her halfway, leaning down to kiss her. 

"I thought you got lost," he teased. Then, he frowned as he looked her over. "Are you cold?"

"A bit," she confessed, rubbing her arms. They had goosebumps all over them, even with the sweater on. "I just want to be sure to keep warm. Help me into my jacket, will you?

"Here."

The carriage was probably unnecessary, but with her back hurting as it was, Edea didn't cherish the idea of drudging through any amount of snow. Instead, she was content to lean against Ringabel and watch the streets pass by.

"My back hurts," she complained, rubbing at her belly. The baby was less active than usual too, perhaps feeling sympathetic to her pain.

He wound an arm around her shoulder. "We could go back home if you'd like."

Edea shook her head. "No, we're already here. Perhaps I'll stop by the Central Healing Tower to get some medicine, though." 

"We could." Ringabel leaned back to look her over, and she could see the all too familiar crease between his brows. "Are you sure you're well enough to be out? I can go shopping on my own."

She pushed him further away. "Ringabel! We've been over this. I don't need to be treated like glass. I just need to walk a bit more. You've had me resting too much, I'd say."

He let out a breath. "No such thing. Just... " he paused. "Let me know if you need to go back home. It's one thing for you to talk, and another for us to be stranded if the pain gets to be too great. You know I worry."

"I know," she said, and when he bent down to kiss her forehead, she kissed his nose. "I know."

Sinon took them to the main street, then helped Ringabel escort Edea out of the carriage. Though it was the last day of the year, and the snowstorm was imminent, there were enough people out on the streets finishing up their shopping that many stopped to watch and wave at her. She leaned on Ringabel more heavily than she would have liked as she waved back, her other arm tightly wrapped in his.

"There's a garage nearby," Sinon said, breathing into his gloved hands. "I'll take the carriage there."

"Thank you," Ringabel replied. "But it's too cold for you to stay with it. Go to the teahouse at the end of the street. We'll meet you there."

"Yes, sir."

They didn't wait to watch him leave, Ringabel instead steering Edea toward the nearest boutique. She groaned and hunched over into her thick, downy jacket. "We should have had him take us closer," she said. She had been used to the cold, growing up in Eternia, but that didn't mean she had to like it!

Ringabel chuckled. "He could have, but the snow drifts are getting big, even without the storm here yet.  Will you be alright? Perhaps I shall carry you?"

Edea elbowed him in the side. "I can't be seen being carried! What will the people think?"

Now that the initial excitement was over, most people weren't paying attention to them as they walked down the street. Now and then, she caught sight of people staring or waving, and she would always wave back in return.

The Florem Fashion boutique was warm, large, and full of wonderful, spring like clothing. Edea let out a happy sigh as she crossed over the threshold and immediately began to feel a light blue skirt that was displayed on a mannequin. "Do you think this would look good on me?" Already, all pain was forgotten.

"Of course," Ringabel said. "But it may not fit for a few months."

"Maybe I can put in an elastic waistband."

The two of them chattered back and forth as they made their way slowly to the baby section of the boutique, pointing out bits and pieces of clothing that they liked as they went. Edea knew it was impractical to buy clothing she wouldn't be able to use for a few months, until her belly was smaller, but she picked out a couple of blouses anyway, because they were on sale.  Ringabel dutifully carried them for her, as always.

The baby selection was quite small. Edea knew it would be; the best selection for baby clothes would be in an actual store catered to babies, and not a regular fashion boutique, but what they _had_  was adorable! She squealed as she looked over a onesie with an embroidered cupcake on it. 

"Look, Ringabel! Isn't this the cutest thing you've ever seen?"

"Isn't it a bit girly?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Cupcakes aren't girly or boyish," she retorted, rolling her eyes and nudging him with a foot. "Oh, look at this one," she cooed, moving onto another one that was folded on the small table. "It's perfect for your son."

"'Handsome just like dad'," Ringabel read. He grinned. "I agree!"

The clothes ranged in size, from newborn to a year. Edea skipped over the newborn clothes for now; from what she knew, her baby may not even in fit in them. He was getting quite large already, and was running out of room in the womb as it was. Besides, he would spend most of his first couple of months swaddled against her chest. Expensive clothes weren't necessary for once.

No, the three month old clothing was where it was at, and they were so much cuter, too! She felt tears spring into her eyes as she read out each pattern that she saw, cooing over the patterns of ducklings and chompers that covered some, and ran her fingers over tiny little booties, even the ones with bows.

"I want a girl," she whispered, noticing a little headband with hearts all over it.

"The next one can be a girl," Ringabel said. He was smiling fondly at a tiny coat complete with a furred hood. "I have a name in mind already."

They bought several complete outfits, along with the coat that Ringabel liked, and a collection of designer swaddling blankets. By that time, her back was aching painfully, and she felt her stomach roil with nausea with each step. 

"I need to sit down," she said, trying not to clutch Ringabel's arm. He was already carrying their purchases. He didn't need to carry her either.

"We'll sit," he said, and lead her to a stone bench, sweeping the snow off it so that she could sit. She did so, letting out a groan of pain as she settled.

He kneeled before her, not minding the snow that soaked into his pants. "What's wrong?"

"My back," she said through gritted teeth. "It hurts."

Ringabel pressed his lips together as he searched her face. "I shouldn't have suggested we go out. You can't walk around this much." He made to stand, and she grabbed his arms.

"No," she insisted.  "It's fine. I just need to rest a bit more before we go somewhere else, Ringabel." Already, her back felt better. That's all she needed, was to sit down. It made sense. She was carrying so much extra weight in the front, no wonder her back was more sensitive these days!

"... if you're sure," he replied, letting out a breath. "Let me know the moment that it changes."

"I will," she promised. When he finally sat beside her, she leaned against him for a few moments, pulling the hood of her coat up and over her head. Ringabel was recognizable, with his hair, but at least she could give herself some privacy as she composed herself. Curling in slightly, she rubbed her belly through her thick coat.

… staying in one place like this was making her shiver with cold. After a few short moments, she attempted to stand - she needed Ringabel's support in order to do so. "Let's go," she said, teeth chattering. "Doesn't Kits and Cubs have benches inside?" She'd been in the baby store only a few times, but she vaguely remembered that. It gave their pregnant customers an opportunity to sit.

"They do," he replied, and stood with her. "Are you cold? The wind is picking up."

"It's Eternia, Ringabel. Of course I'm cold."

Kits and Cubs was a store that catered to all things babies; cribs, blankets, clothes, and even food. It was large, spacious, and because it held so many different things, it wouldn't have the best selection of cute baby clothes. She knew that from experience.  Hopefully though, it would have enough. She wasn't sure she'd be able to stand much more of this standing and walking around thing.

But as they approached the store, her steps wavered. Pain continued to radiate out of her back and down her legs, making her stumble. Ringabel caught her as she nearly tripped and fell, dropping the bag from Florem Fashion into the snow.

"Edea!"

A nearby civilian stopped. "Goodness! Lady Marshal? Are you alright?"

Mortified, she attempted to wave the young woman off. "I'm quite… I'm quite alright." Others were stopping to stare now, causing heat to rush into her face. Steeling herself, she grabbed Ringabel's arm and forced herself to walk.

And nearly threw up in the next moment. Agony rushed into her belly, stealing her breath and bringing her to her knees in the snow. Her entire bottom torso felt like it was on fire. She couldn't feel her legs.

Ringabel kneeled beside her, his face ashen. "Dearest, what - "

"It hurts, Ringabel," she managed to breathe out through gritted teeth. "Hurts. Ringabel…"

"I'll get a White Mage," someone offered. Edea was only vaguely aware of a crowd that was gathering around her. She tried to stand, but her knees felt like rubber. Distant. Only half there. Ringabel caught her before she could faceplate into the snow bank.

"I just need to sit," she insisted, clutching his arm so that she could attempt to stand again. The movement sent sharper pain through her. This time, though, it wasn't from her back. It was from her belly.

She leaned her forehead against her husband's shoulder, taking a deep breath. She was imagining things. Her back was the problem, here, and she shouldn't have been surprised. The midwife had mentioned something about bed rest possibly being necessary in her later months, and it seemed that she'd have to look into it, now. Once she got home…

Another attempt to stand was just as futile. Now, another man came up on her other side and together with Ringabel, she was carried out of the road and to a nearby bench under an awning, where she all but collapsed. 

Her breath came in quick, short gasps as she tried to comprehend the mass of people around her. They were saying things. Worried things, anxious things… she wasn't sure entirely what. Everything was hazy,  mixing together in a confusing fog of noise and color. Even Ringabel's face was blurry in front of her as he cradled her face. He was murmuring something to her.

Now that she was sitting, she was acutely aware of how much her back hurt. It positively pulsed with pain, radiating sharp spikes through her hips and even to her belly. Poor baby, she thought, rubbing at her enlarged stomach to comfort. She hoped he couldn't feel the pain.

… he wasn't moving, she realized with a jolt as she pressed her hand against her stomach, again and again. Where normally he would kick back against her hand, he was calm. Still.

Lifeless.

"Ringabel!" she screamed, jolting herself out of her haze. Everything came back to her. The worried crowd, the bite of the freezing Eternia wind, and the stillness of the baby inside of her. "Ringabel!"

He had been speaking to the man who'd helped carry her, and now he looked back at her, his eyes wide and watery. "Edea?"

"Something's wrong."

' _Wrong_ '. She had no idea how to explain to him what she felt, that sickening feeling in the pit of her stomach that something was missing, something she could never get back. That the baby wasn't moving when he should have been. Their boy had been so active up until this point, but now his motions were missing and she felt so… wrong.

She didn't have to explain it. He could see it in her eyes.

"Send a message that we're on our way," Ringabel snapped to the man beside him as he scooped her up into his arms. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders as he hoisted her close, taking as much care with her stomach as she could.  "We can't wait for them to bring a carriage in the snow."

"Yes, sir." The man saluted as Ringabel sped off.

It was faster this way. Edea clung to him  as he took shortcuts through small alleys and cut across roads. It seemed like hours, but she knew it had to be just minutes before Ringabel entered the Central Healing Tower, where a pair of White Mages had just descended to the bottom floor.

"We'll take her!" they called as a stretcher was rolled over.

"Please," Ringabel said, placing her down onto it. She groaned as she was laid out straight, and clung to his hand; to her relief, he stayed at her side, fitting himself on one side of the White Mages as they started to wheel her to the elevator. "Please take care of them."

She was wheeled to a room. Edea watched the ceiling as it went past, bright crystal lights piercing her eyes. At some point, one of the white mages started using healing magic on her, to take the edge of the pain that she felt, bringing her enough relief that she could fully realize what was happening.

Something was terribly, terribly wrong. It was plain to see in the faces of the White Mages that worked on her, their magic a cooling blanket to relieve some of the fire within her. It gave her just enough lucidity to see the dismay on their faces as they cast their spells.

"Doctor Bones is on his way," Ringabel said to her. His hand was still tight in hers, clammy and too warm. 

Her clothes had been cut away at some point, and now her stomach was bare. She looked down at it, hoping to see the baby's movement through her skin. It had been creepy at first to see, but she'd grown so used to it. "Is he…"

Ringabel squeezed her hand, bringing her attention back to his face. "He'll be here soon."

Outside, the wind had picked up once more, blowing heavily against the window. Edea couldn't even see the sun through the thick clouds and the sheets of white snow that began to pile up on the sil. She had no idea how much time was passing as she lay in the bed, feeling the magic drift over her.

Dr. Bones came, and her midwife was right behind. Both looked as though they had been running.

"Lady Marshal!" Dr. Bones declared, coming around to her side. "I thought I told you not to exert yourself!"

"I didn't," she tried to defend through gasps. The White Mages had stopped their spells when he appeared. "It was just… shopping."

Her midwife, an older woman named Matylda whom she liked quite a bit, was gingerly feeling her gravid stomach. "Have you been having contractions?"

"Only minor ones," Edea replied. "Just as you said."

"Any pain?"

"Just started recently. But only in my back! It wasn't until just - just now that it was unmanageable."

The midwife and doctor exchanged glances. "Keep casting magic," Bones said to the White Mages. "Let us know if anything changes."

Edea did not like the sound of that. She looked at Ringabel, who was looking troubled. 

"Mr. Lee, if I may have a moment of your time," Bones said, gesturing with a hand. Reluctantly, Ringabel pulled his hand from Edea's and bent to kiss her forehead. 

"I'll be right back," he assured her. She didn't want him to go, and lifted her hand from the bed for a brief moment before settling it back down. The White Magic was again blurring her pain. 

"Alright," she agreed.

He stepped out into the hall.

The White Magic eventually made the pain stop. Edea lay back in the bed and let it wash over her in calming, warm waves, closing her eyes. When she was like this, she could focus all of her attention on her belly, feeling for any sign of movement. He had to be in such pain, just as she was, she decided. The White Magic would soothe him too; she had found out quickly that babies in the womb could feel magic coursing through their mother's veins. Hopefully, he was feeling better now, and ready to begin to bother her again. A smile curved her lips as she remembered how Anazel would fit himself right under her ribcage when she slept on her side, causing her to have to push him back down before she could sit up.

The warmth of White Magic was so great that it spread over her limbs like a heavy blanket, making it hard to move her arm, then her fingers. Even her breath evened out under its weight, until she felt herself slip asleep, dropping into an abyss where worry and pain no longer existed.

She woke to the steady beeping of a machine.

"W-what? Where?" she asked, stumbling over her words. Her tongue felt too thick, foreign in her mouth. And no wonder her arms had been heavy! She was now latched to the bed. Her body was bare to the elements, save for a thin papery blanket that pooled around her hips. Wires strung about her, as though she were a puppet.

Ringabel lifted his head from where it had been buried in his hands. "Edea!" His eyes were red and swollen as he clutched her arm. "You're awake!"

"Lady Marshal," Dr. Bones said from her other side. He sounded immensely relieved. "You've woken."

"What happened?" Her mouth was dry, and made speaking difficult, and she coughed. Pain spiraled in her.

"You fell asleep," he said, and she did not like the sudden kindness in his voice, the way it dropped low and gentle. Bones had never sounded like that; he had always been professional and distant. "Your body was so exhausted that we didn't realize how much magic we were putting in you. It was too much, and… there were complications."

"What happened." She repeated, but her heart already knew. Ringabel squeezed her arm, painfully.

"I'm sorry, Lady Marshal. I'm sorry. When you fell asleep, we had to revive you. After that, when we tried to monitor the baby… we can no longer detect his heartbeat."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm aware that to most people, this subject might be a bit odd to write, in something that should be a happy, hopeful time. And that, millions of parents have encountered this. If one hasn't pinged onto it yet, it's part of Tree's Bravely Babies universe. Unfortunately, sometimes things happen.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "We can no longer detect the baby's heartbeat."
> 
> After that, Edea is left to pick up the pieces of her broken heart. She doesn't need to go it alone, with the help of Ringabel and her friends and family beside her. This isn't goodbye, just goodnight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter includes description of a child's death and some frank discussion about childbirth, grief, and healing from the death of said child. 
> 
> I've made at least two people cry after they read this chapter, so it might be good to have tissues on hand.

"We can no longer detect his heartbeat."

An ultrasound confirmed it. The form on the monitor was still, his tiny heart unmoving. Edea held it together as much as she could as her wet eyes swept over the blurry image, taking in the sight of the facial features she had come to memorize. Features she would never have a chance to see for herself.

It turned out the last part, at least, wasn't true.

"We can give you something to induce labor," her midwife explained, gently, once they returned her to the hospital room. "Otherwise, Dr. Bones would be happy to … surgically remove him. Either way, he has to come out somehow." Or there would be further complications. 

She pressed her lips together as she thought. Beside her, Ringabel was stiff and stoic, his breathing forcefully even. His hand was tight in hers.

"I'll… I'll go into labor," Edea decided, after looking over her husband's tight face. It wouldn't be right, to have Anazel just _removed_  as though he were an unsightly growth. He was her baby, and deserved this much, at least. And this way, she could hold him in her arms before they said goodbye.

They were reluctant to use White Magic to stifle the pain of labor, given the scare from earlier, but she decided that would be fine. She'd had enough of it, for now. After administering some medicine to induce labor, her midwife settled in with her for the rest of the evening as her contractions strengthened. Ringabel held her tightly throughout it, settling in behind her on the hospital bed after a point, her hands clutching his with each contraction. With his legs on either side of hers, she could brace herself against him as she slowly reached what she hoped would be the end of it.

"You'll be alright. I'll stay right here," he promised, pressing his cheek to hers during a moment when she had leaned back against his chest to ride out the pain. Sweat made both her hair and his stick to her forehead and temple. She was still only half dilated but the contractions were coming only minutes apart, long and tight and painful. Whatever they had given her was _strong_. "I'm not leaving you. Never."

"I know," she said once she could, panting as the latest contraction ebbed. She could already feel another right behind it. "Thank you." 

At 10:11 at night, Anazel Ringabel Lee came into the world, still and unmoving. His skin was a ghastly purple-white, and he was small and frail, his limbs thin. Edea held him to her bare chest, letting her skin warm his, though she knew it was futile. He didn't so much as move a finger as she caressed his head.

"He's beautiful," Ringabel said. His fingers were shaking as they ghosted over the child's cheek. "I knew he would be."

Tears rolled down her cheeks as she drank in the sight of her child. Like this, she could almost pretend he was sleeping, were it not for his unnatural stillness. Not even his eyes, under his eyelids, were moving.  "I told you that he'd have your nose." She pressed her finger to it.

The afterbirth was delivered, and with it, the cause of death. "It's already been torn off," Matylda observed, looking over the organ. "See? The bleeding here stopped when the white magic healed it earlier. He must have suffocated in the womb."

Edea closed her eyes. That explained the pain in her back, then. She should have come straight to the healing tower when she had first felt it. Then, he might have had a chance...

"Thank you," Ringabel said firmly to the older woman, squeezing Edea's shoulders tightly. "I don't suppose you could perhaps give us a few minutes?"

Matylda was wrapping the afterbirth up for disposal and didn't even look up at him. "Of course, sir. That cable there - it's connected to a bell. Please ring it if you need anything. We'll be back shortly to clean them up."

Edea tuned out the sounds of the midwife leaving, instead looking back at the tiny form in her arms. He was so, so small, and … completely bald. She ran her hand over his head, noting how soft his skin felt, though it looked like wax. His features blurred in her vision.

"We should get him a little hat," she murmured. "It's too cold to be without one."

"We will," Ringabel replied after a pause. "In a moment." His arm squeezed around her waist, and his other was helping her cradle Anazel. She nodded, understanding that he too, wanted some time with the baby.

Eventually, though, he slid out from behind her, and she leaned back into the stack of pillows carefully, letting her hair fan out on them. Tucking a blanket over her and Anazel both, Ringabel kissed her forehead. 

"I called your parents while you were out," he said, and his fingers began to caress the baby's smooth back. "I need to call them with an update."

Oh… he was right. She had forgotten everything that might exist outside of the room. Her parents, her friends, Eternia itself. She swallowed past the lump in her throat, taking another glance at the baby. "Okay."

When Ringabel left the room, he waved Matylda in, to clean up both mother and child.

The White Mage assistants who came in with her were very thorough and set immediately to cleaning Edea up. Though it stung, Edea welcomed the brief distraction of pain as the still baby was taken from her for his own cleaning. She watched, anxiously.

He was wiped down and put in a diaper before being swaddled in one of the plain receiving blankets that the hospital had on hand. At Edea's insistence, the midwife also tugged on one of the hats that had been purchased for him just hours ago; the bags full of merchandise had been sitting in a corner where Ringabel had left them. It was a bit large. When they let Edea hold him while they brought in fresh bedding and wiped down the metal appliances, she adjusted it slightly over his ears so it would fit better.

Ringabel returned, looking better. There was color in his cheeks that hadn't been there since she'd collapsed, and his eyes were bright. Even when his gaze fell on Edea holding the clothed baby, they did not dull. His smile grew soft. "Let me hold him."

"Here," she said, passing him over. It was just as well. Her midwife wanted her to stand, to test the strength of her back and legs, as the assistants changed the soiled sheets and swapped out the sweat-soaked pillows. She did so, clinging tightly to the woman's arms as Ringabel hovered nervously nearby with the baby in his arms.

"It's _fine_ , Ringabel," she insisted, though her legs felt weak. Pushing babies out was hard work, harder than almost anything she'd done before. "Go sit down." She pointed to the armchair in the corner of the room even as she was sat in a folding chair that had been brought in.

Obediently, her husband sat and while he watched her carefully as she was examined, he also cradled the baby gently, bouncing him gently. He looked so natural with a baby in his arms, it made her heart once again twist.

Matylda's fingers pressed against her side, and then her tummy, causing Edea to wince and draw her full attention to what was going on. She looked up at the other woman.

"You'll still be large for a few weeks yet," Matylda said, prodding the top of Edea's stomach in such a way that made her want to vomit. "It would help if you could nurse, but well… we can give you a blend of tea that should help your uterus shrink to a more normal size. You'll just have to let time and nature take its course."

"Right." If only she could nurse. Ringabel made a noise beside her, but when she looked, he shook his head at her.

Her back was still sore, but not as painful as before, and pressing down on certain areas didn't cause a spike in pain. Her legs still felt weak, but that was natural for the hours after birth. And everything else just felt sore. Once the bed was cleaned, Matylda helped her back into it, with strict instructions to stay there and ring the bell for assistance. Someone would help her with anything that she needed.

Then, everyone left the room and she and Ringabel were alone again, with Anazel.

"What did they say?" she asked him. Looking at him holding their child made everything seem to hurt again. Her eyes felt hot.

He looked up at her from where he'd been staring at the baby's features, his fingers tracing patterns over the closed eyes. "Your parents? They're on their way. Your father wants to know if you want him to get Tiz and Agnès as well, or if - "

Edea shook her head. "No, not right now." She wasn't even sure how she would tell Tiz and Agnès, yet alone Yew and Magnolia. She knew they needed to know, but for now… she just wanted her mother. While she normally would look up to her father for advice, in this situation only her mother could help.

He took a deep breath as though to say something, then simply nodded. "They should be here  in a few days, then. Mother wants you to check in with her when you're can. When you're feeling up to it." He stood from where he was sitting and returned to her bedside, where he reached out to take her hand. Edea clung to him, feeling how clammy his fingers felt. 

"She said to tell you that it wasn't your fault," he finished, squeezing her hand tightly, and that broke her. She cried out, tugging her hands from his and crumpling into a ball on the bed. She didn't see Ringabel fumble with the bundle in his arms, crying out at the sight of his wife sobbing. Clutching Anazel to his chest, he leaned over to wrap an arm around Edea's shoulders, holding both her and the baby tightly as he waited for her sobs to subside.

They did, slowly. Edea was too tired to cry for long. Letting out a long sigh, she fell back against the pillows and looked wearily up at him.

"I'll stay here," he said, smoothing some of her hair back from her swollen face. His own was streaked with tears. "You try to get some rest, my dear."

He needed rest too, she knew, but she didn't have the energy to tell him so. Turning her face away, she closed her eyes. Within seconds, she was out despite the lingering pain in both her body and her heart.

When she woke, it was daytime. A storm was still blowing, but she could at least see the sun out the window. Edea twisted her neck so that she could try to watch the snowflakes blow here and about. Why did her head hurt so much? Why was her bed at such an awkward angle?

Then she remembered everything all at once. She wasn't at home, in bed that was directly in the sunrise rays. She was in the Central Healing Tower, because she had collapsed. And because she had collapsed, Anazel was...

"Anazel?"

"He's right here," Ringabel replied. She turned her head to the side, to see her husband sitting at the side of her hospital bed. His eyes were still swollen, with deep purple bags, though no longer as red as they had been the previous evening. His hair was messy and limp, falling about his face and obscuring his vision. As she watched, he brushed the dull locks away with one hand. The other hand was… still cradling a tiny pile of blankets that he held on his lap. 

When her eyes fell on it, her heart clenched painfully. Her breath wavered. The plain white receiving blanket had been swapped out for one that her father had made, complete with Anazel's initials embroidered into the hem, along with tiny little Chompers. It fit him so well, even now.

Ringabel stood, and offered her the swaddled baby. She took Anazel gratefully, holding him tightly to her. Again, he still looked like he was sleeping, peaceful and quiet. Now that he was clean, and there was daylight, she could see some of his features she had missed the first time. Even if he had no hair, he had white eyelashes that rested on his cheeks. They made him look angelic. She kissed the top of his head.

"You were awake all night," she said to Ringabel. It wasn't a question.

"I couldn't sleep," he admitted. "I just wanted to hold him, while I could. I've gotten my fill, though. He's yours, until…"

She swallowed. "How long do we have?" Eternia's climate didn't allow for traditional burials. He would have to be cremated, and Eternia preferred cremations soon after death, a practice that had started with the Plague, and continued since.

"Long enough."

Sinon had found them, thanks to the city gossip, and as it turned out, had then stayed in the healing tower overnight to run errands for Ringabel. Edea promised herself that he would get a raise, as the tired groundskeeper came in at Ringabel's request. The man bowed to her, his face full of sorrow. She knew that all of the staff had been looking forward to the baby's birth, and Sinon had many younger siblings. He liked babies.  "You needed something else, sir?" he asked.

"Edea's going to be here another day," Ringabel told him. When Edea looked at him questioningly, he smiled tiredly at her. "Dr. Bones wants to keep you for observation until tomorrow. You bled a lot while you were out, and while it's been stopped, much blood was lost. They may need to transfuse if you feel dizzy. We'll have you walk a bit this afternoon to see."

Right. 

To Sinon, Ringabel continued. "I think we'll be fine until tomorrow morning, provided that… man shows up. Why don't you go home and be with your family?"

"I'll be happy to check in on you later," Sinon offered. "In case he doesn't show."

Ringabel thought about it. "If you're sure, I won't stop you. Would you be able to come back tomorrow, at the very least? To take us back."

The groundskeeper nodded, then turned to make his leave. Before he slipped through the door, however, he stopped to look back at Ringabel. "Oh, and ah, sir… happy birthday. I suppose." As if sensing he'd just made things much more awkward, Sinon was gone before Ringabel could reply.

Edea looked at Ringabel, aghast. "It is your birthday, isn't it? Oh, Ringabel…" Once again, her eyes felt hot. She had bought Ringabel his birthday present _weeks_  ago, how could she have forgotten? Though Ringabel preferred to keep things quiet on his birthday and hated celebrating it, he never turned down a gift. 

But… her gift to him this year had been a shirt to match a onesie for the baby. Now, she couldn't imagine giving it to him. She would have to find something else.

He held up a hand. "Don't, Edea. You know I don't like to make a fuss over it. Especially not… not right now."

She bit her lip, going quiet for a long moment before changing the subject. "What man is coming over? What did you do?"

The smile he gave her was weak but almost as cocky as usual. "You'll have to wait and see."

The man, it turned out, was a certain Mr. K. Doka. He was very well known for this experiments in the new technology that was photography, and Edea owned a few of his more rare prints. Now, she tried to keep it together for this man that she admired as he swept in with the briefcase that held his precious camera. One of his assistants carried a box behind, and another held a larger briefcase that seemed to hold more equipment.

By now it was early afternoon, and she and Ringabel had been alone together in the room with their baby for hours. Dr. Bones and her midwife had both come to check on her, both commenting on her body's progress in healing, thanks to the white magic. They both avoided talking about the reality of the still form that she held cradled against her chest as often as she could, except when forced to place him down, such as when her midwife had escorted her on a walk through the brightly-lit, bare hallway, or when she'd had to be helped into the restroom.

Ringabel had just started to nap on a recliner in the corner of the room, and while Edea was initially annoyed when a nurse came in to announce they had a visitor, her heart leaped into her chest when she realized who it was. She'd never met him before, and she would have liked it to be under better circumstances than her being disheveled, exhausted, and holding her dead child in her arms.

"Hello, Lady Marshal," Mr. Doka said, bowing to her after he'd set his equipment aside. His face was kind and gentle, though he frowned slightly at the bundle in her arms. An older man in his fifties, she knew that he had children and grandchildren himself; they were frequent subjects in his photographs.  "I was so sorry to hear of your loss. You have my deepest condolences."

"Thank you," she replied, not sure what else to say. 

Ringabel took over for her, squeezing her arm as he addressed the photographer. "Thank you for coming on such short notice, Mr. Doka. We greatly appreciate your time, especially today."

"Of course, of course! I would hate to make a business out of such a thing, but… I could never say no to a request from the Grand Marshal and her husband."  He smiled at them, as his assistant went to work unpacking and setting up his camera.

"What are we doing?" Edea asked, confused.

"Well," Ringabel said, leaning in close to whisper to her. Mr. Doka was turning to supervise everything, barking out orders and directions. "We had planned on getting a portrait of the three of us done, yes? We - there won't be time for that now, but I thought perhaps you would like a photograph instead."

This was why she had fallen in love and married this man, Edea thought suddenly. He could be so weird and had some strange ideas, but every so often one of those ideas of his was pure genius. Yes, they didn't have time to pose for a painter, not now, but a photograph could be done much quicker. It could also be stored away for safekeeping, as well, rather than displayed up on a wall somewhere.

Then he ruined the entire loving husband delusion by grinning at her. "You're thinking about how much you love me, aren't you?"

Were her arms not full, she would have pushed his face away. "Shut up."

The little spike of normality in the surreal world that her life had become in the last 24 hours was appreciated. Once Mr. Doka was good and ready, his camera set up and a white blanket acting as a bit of a backdrop instead of a dreary, snow-covered window and the white magic machines, he directed Ringabel to get ready and pose beside his wife and son. 

It was never that easy with Ringabel. He held them as he attempted to fix his hair, holding a handheld mirror in front of him as he brushed his fingers through it, styling it as best he could.

"You look fine. If anything, I'm the one who needs to freshen up," Edea complained from the bed. She hadn't bathed since yesterday, and while Ringabel had taken a few moments to brush and tie her hair up, she doubted it was very stylish. Not to mention the dowdy hospital gown she was wearing! It made her look more pale than usual.

"Ah, but you look beautiful as always," Ringabel said distractedly as he continued to preen. "The very picture of mother… motherhood." After a pause, he handed the mirror back and dutifully went to sit beside his wife, back straight.

"We'll start with some family photos," the man said, ducking under the black cover of his camera. "Since you're already holding him. Stay still."

Edea wasn't sure how many pictures they actually ended up taking. Though the flashbulb went off over and over, she was lost in her haze of thoughts, again. Anazel felt so light in her arms, but at the same time so heavy in her heart. She hoped that wouldn't be reflected in the photos. She wanted them to be a good remembrance of her baby. He could look like his sleeping, to those that didn't know. He would look peaceful, and beautiful. Forever her tiny son.

Soon, before she knew it, the photoshoot was over. Most of the pictures, she knew, had been incredibly intimate and sorrowful, centered on her and Ringabel holding their tiny bundle close to their forms. However, they had decided to have a few taken of Anazel by himself in the bassinet that had been wheeled in, in case they needed to place him down, looking peaceful in his little hat and the plush baby blanket from his grandfather. 

"At least Father will be able to see that he used it," Edea said as she held the bundle of blankets on her knees, the back of her fingers brushing Anazel's cheeks. The photographer had left by now, along with a promise that he would deliver the photos within a week to their manor. The room was quiet again, the silence stifling on her skin.

"Yes. I'm sure he'll be… touched to know." Ringabel replied. He sat at her side, his legs hanging off the edge of the bed. "Do you... want him to stay in it? They'll keep him in it, if you'd like."

"Yes," she said. "I want him to know his grandfather loves him."

Ringabel was quiet for a long moment before she felt his arms wrap around her. "Of course he knows, my dear. And he knows that you love him, as do I. We will never stop loving him."

Edea leaned back against him, closing her eyes and trying to stave off her shaking. 

"Will you stay with him?" she asked finally, her voice wavering. "I can't go, but… I don't want him to be alone."

Ringabel was too choked up to reply, she realized, but she felt him nodding into her shoulder, wetness spreading through the thin hospital gown.

By the time that darkness began to fall, brought on early by the season, an aide came to inform Ringabel that he would be expected at the crematorium wing any moment now. They needed to get started now before it got too late.

With one final kiss to his tiny forehead, Edea handed Anazel over to his father, and after Ringabel made sure that he was wrapped up tight and secure in his blanket, with a tiny little plush toy heart provided by the hospital tucked in with him, they were gone. Edea watched Ringabel step out through the door.

Then, she was alone.

It came on suddenly, the wave of sharp, painful emotion. She cried out, folding in on herself over her knees, despite the pain in her stomach as she did so. Sobs filled the silence of the room, drowning out the steady beeping of the machines that she was hooked up to. For what seemed like hours, she wept, not moving even when one of the nurses poked their head in to check on her, concerned about the noise. Not even when Dr. Bones came in to monitor her progress and the liquids she was hooked up to, nor when her midwife came to see how she felt now. When Sinon came in that evening as promised, she didn't so much as slow her tears to wave at him.

It was only when Ringabel returned, well into the night, did she realize she had stopped crying at some unknown point, though her chest continued to feel heavy. Her eyes were completely dried out, as were her lips. Her face felt swollen, and was tender, even when he carefully rubbed her cheek with his thumb.

"They've done as much as they can, for now," Ringabel said to her in a low, tired murmur. "The paperwork is finished but they say there's still some process left, and they can't expedite the processing for us."

"I just want to bring him home," she murmured through a throat that felt raw and abused. It wasn't fair, she thought irrationally. The paperwork was usually the most annoying part.

He kissed her forehead. "I do too. But he'll be home soon enough, I promise. Now, have you eaten dinner? Dr. Bones said you can start eating light meals now."

Eating was the last thing on her mind, but she made herself swallow down the terrible hospital food (something she doubted even Magnolia's skills could improve), aware that she hadn't eaten in over a day. Then, she was given some medication to help with the pain that she still felt in her uterus as it contracted, and which would also help her sleep. As she curled up in the bed, she noticed Ringabel settling down into the recliner in her room, a book in his hands and a blanket around his shoulders.

"Are you staying up all night again?" she asked, her words slurred already, her eyes and tongue heavy.

"I'll be fine," he replied loftily, waving a hand. "You know I don't need much sleep."

She shook her head, and barely managed to pat the bed beside her. "Come here. Bed."

Ringabel hesitated. "I should call your mother again," he said. "I'm sure she's worried."

"Bed," she repeated, her eyes slipping shut. A tear leaked from the corner of one, trailing down her cheek and to the hospital bed. "Don't want to be... Alone."

She was too tired to open her eyes, but a moment later, she could feel the bed dipping down as Ringabel joined her in it, draping his blanket over them both. He lay very carefully on his side so that he did not disturb her, but it was close enough. Edea pressed herself against him, thankful for his warmth and - if she closed her eyes and leaned her head against his arm, she could feel his steady heartbeat as she fell into a dreamless sleep.

* * *

"Edea, there you are!"

Edea looked up from the book she had been staring at, unable to comprehend the words she was supposed to be reading, even though she had been attempting to for hours. 

They had returned to the manor the day after Anazel's cremation when Edea had been given a clean bill of health. What would help her most, Dr. Bones said, was for her to rest and recover, both physically and emotionally. For Edea, that meant that she was avoiding the third floor, both because of the large number of stairs, and also so that she wouldn't need to walk past the empty nursery room, which had been prepared so lovingly for naught. Instead, she and Ringabel were sleeping in one of the rooms they'd intended to make into a study. It had been hastily converted to a temporary bedroom and felt foreign and uncomfortable.

Her mother stood in the doorway. She could hear her father talking to Ringabel in another room.

"Mother," she said, both surprised and grateful. They were a day ahead of schedule! She hadn't even heard the doorbell ring. 

Mahzer crossed the room, and before Edea could fully rise out of the chair she was sitting in, swept her into a hug. "Thank goodness," her mother said, squeezing her with more strength than Edea thought she even had. "I'm so glad that you're all right."

"I'm not sure that I would say I'm all right," Edea replied, feeling the familiar sensation of tears pricking her eyes. Blinking them rapidly, she patted the older woman on the back. "But I'm alive."

She was alive, though at times she wondered if she could have traded her life for her baby. When she and her mother parted, Mazher held her at arm's length, searching her face and eyes for a long moment before she nodded.

"No, you're not all right. But you will be. You're strong, Edea. And you will overcome this. I know you will."

Edea had thought herself strong enough to overcome anything, once. And rationally, she knew that she was strong enough to overcome this as well. Still, she felt her throat tighten at her mother's words. "Thank you," she said, unsure of what else to say. In the moment, she didn't feel strong, especially not when moving too much still brought pain.

"Have you been eating? Sleeping?"

"When I can," Edea replied honestly. She had been watched over since her return home, by Ringabel or the maids, and it was wearing on her nerves. She was too full of pent of energy to focus on anything, whether that was eating, reading, or any hobby she might have previously enjoyed. There was also a sickening fear over Ringabel's sanity as she watched her husband distance himself from her as he threw himself into work, prioritizing her and their country over his health.

Edea supposed that was her fault. When they had first returned home, Ringabel had insisted on being at her side every moment and helping her with every little task, even something as small as getting a book from a low shelf. The end result was a constant smothering sensation, unable to be by herself and her thoughts for even a small moment. The day after they came home, she'd ended up hitting him, then screaming at him to leave, after he'd followed her into the restroom despite her insistence that she could make the trip alone. He'd taken it in stride, all things considered, apologizing to her for upsetting her, and for getting in her way, but she knew he'd cried when he left the room so she could pee in peace. Edea had meant to apologize to him, but she hadn't seen him return to bed that night, nor any night since.

At least his hovering had improved after that. The maids checked on her only once an hour or so, to see if she wanted more tea or something to eat, or if her pain medication was still holding up. Ringabel also poked his head in now and then, mostly to ask her if she could sign a letter. He was avoiding her and doing nothing but working on the masses of paperwork that was delivered daily to the manor. It worried her, and yet she didn't have the energy to pursue it.

Word of her lost baby had spread quickly, courtesy of her very public collapse and a few gossipy White Mage assistants. A pile of condolences had been waiting for them when they returned home. Once he detached himself from her hip, Ringabel read and replied to most of them, only showing her the ones from the most important, influential nobles to add her signature to.

Word had spread to Gathelatio as well. Yew and Magnolia had connected to them via crystal, to confirm the news and offer support. She had turned down their - well, Magnolia's - offer to come and stay for a few weeks while she got back on her feet. She turned down Agnès's offer as well when the Vestal called. She just wanted to be alone, she said, while she healed. Later, she might regret those words and ask her friends to come. For now, she couldn't bear their pity.

Though she didn't have a child to show for it, she _had_  given birth and had lost of a lot of blood in doing so, so she was now under strict doctor's orders to _rest_ , and to truly distance herself from her work so she could focus on healing. He had forbidden her from doing heavy amounts of sitting, standing, and movement. That meant she'd be in the manor for a few weeks, if not longer, which for once, she was fine with. Ringabel had taken up the brunt of work and had even run off to Central Command a few times to meet with their points of contact there.

In the manor, away from the world, she could heal privately.

Mahzer frowned at her. "You've lost weight, even I can tell." Her hands brushed Edea's cheeks.

Edea flushed. She had. "I have to be careful with what I eat until I build up my strength again."  That wasn't a lie, though certainly, her lack of appetite was also a factor. Her meals were being brought to the room she was sleeping in, and she'd been eating alone since her fight with Ringabel. No one was watching her pick over her plate.

Her mother then smiled. "Well, it's certainly a good thing that I know what to cook that will help you. Why don't you come with me to get started?" Not waiting for an answer, she pulled Edea towards the kitchen.

In the dining room, they found Braev seated at the head of the long table, looking over some of the papers that his son had spread out. When Edea entered, he stood from his seat. Though it had been years since their last battle, Edea noted that he'd had to push himself up using the table. His legs were unsteady, even now, especially with Eternia's climate.

"My daughter," he said, coming toward her with wide arms. For once, she realized, he was not wearing his heavy Templar armor. Possibly because he knew that he would be folding her against his chest and that the armor wouldn't make a hug as comfortable. Edea leaned against him, feeling a sense of safety and security in his arms that she hadn't felt in years, since she was much smaller. His large, strong hands patted the top of her hair. "I'm so glad to see you well. When Ringabel first called us, we feared the worst."

Edea looked up at him. "The worst?"

"I called them before you woke," Ringabel said quietly, from where he too, had stood when the women had entered. His hand was clenched tight, but he made no motion to move closer to her for a hug of his own. "When we didn't know what had happened at first." When he'd been out of his mind with terror at the possibility of losing his wife _and_  child.

"Oh," she said. They had talked to her parents a few times since, briefly, but she had the impression they'd left the woods immediately after that first call. No wonder they had gotten to Eternia so quickly. "Well…"

Braev finally let her go, patting her shoulder. "We'll be staying as long as you need us," he said, then turned back to the paperwork Ringabel had out. "I see that you're expanding some of the passages between Eternia and Central Command here. I've used that company before, when we built some of the encampments in the mountain. You can depend on them."

"Oh, yes," she said, switching to her work mode. It surprised her, how naturally it came even now. "I saw your notes on them that you left, that's why we went with them."

"Have you talked to them about using soldiers for some labor? That will cut down on costs and give our - your men something to do."

" _Dear_ ", Mahzer said, her hand on Edea's arm. "Edea and I were going to start making dinner. You and Ringabel should get started on clearing the table so we can all eat together."

Braev looked startled at the interruption. "Of course."

"What was that about using the soldiers?" Ringabel asked him, touching the man's arm. "I hadn't thought of that!"

Edea left her husband and father to their conversation as she complacently followed her mother to the kitchen, feeling lost in her own home, as she had felt the last few days. She watched as Mahzer busied herself in the kitchen as though she had always been in it, pulling out pans and bowls, and opening the icebox to check for ingredients.

"Oh, you've quite a few meals in here," Mahzer observed, cocking her head.

"We do," Edea said. "When our neighbors heard of what happened, they brought them over." She reminded herself to send thank you letters once she could get back up the stairs to where their stationery was in their main office.

"That's quite kind of them."

"It is… it is very nice of them," the younger woman replied woodenly, and once again a feeling of remorse swept through her. So many people were offering to help, and she was… suddenly holding a casserole in her hands as Mahzer passed it over to her. 

"Well, I don't see any of your favorite desserts in here," Mahzer said as she continued to rifle through the icebox. "Why don't you and I make some?"

For the first time in a while, Edea felt her spirits lifted. "Can we? It's been so long since we've made cake together, or cookies, or…" Suddenly, she didn't know what she wanted to eat for dessert. The maids had been serving only the meals that had been brought over, but that hadn't included any sweets. She couldn't even remember the last time she'd eaten something with any sugar in it. Even the tea they've been serving had been bland, to help her stomach. No wonder she'd been feeling terrible physically, on top of everything else.

In the end, they made a cake that could be served with ice cream that Sinon fetched for them from the store. It was served after a chicken casserole that the family and the staff polished off. Edea made sure to eat as much as she could until she felt full to bursting, a first in weeks. Afterward, she could barely keep her eyes open; she'd knew she would have to sleep it off. Waving sleepily at her father and Ringabel, who were now working in the downstairs office, she went to back to her temporary room. Mazher retired at the same time, heading to one of the guest rooms on the second floor.

She curled up in bed, pulling the warm covers over her, and fell asleep within just a few short minutes, feeling lighter than she had in a while, despite the abundance of food she'd eaten. Then, she woke only a short while later when the door opened, sending light across her eyes.

"Ringabel?" she mumbled, shielding her face with one hand until he shut the door behind him. She hadn't seen him come to bed since before the… before. For a couple of days, she'd wondered if he'd even been sleeping in the room, until she noticed drool marks on the pillow beside her when she woke. It was as if he was afraid of upsetting her again, but by distancing himself from her entirely, he'd only made her feel worse, she realized now. She'd _missed_  him.

"Your father sent me to bed," he confessed, pulling his shirt off and tossing it over the armchair in the room. His pants followed, and he then fell into bed with an exhausted sigh, burying his face into the pillow. "Can you believe it! I'm in my twenties and he's sending me to bed as though I'm twelve again."

She smiled at him in the dark, reaching for his hand. Once found, she squeezed his fingers, and he returned the gesture. "I know. When we were making the cake, it was like when Mother and I made desserts when I was a child. She even let me lick the bowl."

His teeth were visible in the dark. "I'm… I'm glad they came."

"Me too."

He was quiet for a long time, and Edea would have wondered if he'd fallen asleep if not for the whites of his eyes gazing over her features. She closed her eyes to let him continue to be a creep, and just as she started to nod off again, the silence was broken by his voice, sounding small.

"Edea, you know I love you."

"I know," she said. His hand squeezed hers again. "I love you too."

With that final statement, she let him wiggle under the covers and hold her close as the night passed quietly. She'd missed him.

* * *

Three things happened in the coming days.

The first was that the pictures from Mr. Doka arrived by way of a delivery from one of his assistants. They came in an embossed leather box. When she opened it, what she noticed first was a large book with silver trimming on the edges and spine, and an embossed silver "A" on the cover. The style was suspiciously similar to Ringabel's tatty old journal. Edea cast a glance at her husband as he leaned over the back of her chair to watch her unpack the box.

The family had all gathered in the front sitting room to open the box. The assistant had been asked to wait in a chair just outside the door, so that they could send the final portion of the payment for the photos with her, and so that they could check the quality, just in case. Edea sat in a plush, very comfy armchair, while her parents at in the loveseat across the sitting table.

"My goodness," he said, not sounding surprised in the least. "I've never seen that pattern before."

"Of course you have," Braev said, raising an eyebrow. "That's the same style as the jour-"

Ringabel cleared his throat. "This way it runs in the family, doesn't it?" He gave Edea a rueful smile.

Edea felt her heart clench painfully even as she gave him a small smile in return. That man! She turned back to the book, opening it carefully.

Anazel's full name was written beautifully on the inside, with his birthdate… his death date. The names of his parents were written underneath, along with something Edea recognized as being written in Ringabel's handwriting. Now, with her eyes filling up with hot tears, she couldn't read it. She would have to return to it later. Instead, she turned the page. 

The first picture, inset into baby blue paper, was the one of Anazel by himself, looking peaceful and quiet in his handmade blanket and hat. Though the color in the film was faded, there was enough that she could see all the details just as though they were real. She gingerly touched her finger to his printed cheek.

"May we see?" Mahzer asked, holding out her hands. "It seems there may be other items in the box, Edea."

"Of course," Edea said, blinking her eyes rapidly before any tears may fall and ruin the images.  Ringabel picked the book up out of her hands and swept around the table so that he could bring it to her parents. As he did so, Edea busied herself with looking at the rest of the package.

There was a small metal tin to the side, with the word "negatives" engraved on it, and instructions to return to Mr. Doka or any of his associates to make more copies of the photos at any time, if she would like. They would honor this offer so long as the company was in business. Edea set that aside for now; making a mental note that perhaps her parents would want copies to bring with them, if they desired.

Underneath the book, there was a thin box, seemingly made of paper. When she picked it up, something shifted inside, and when she opened it - well, she supposed she wouldn't need to look into copies for her parents now. Inside box were duplicates of a few of the photos, ranging from the ones of Anazel by himself, to the family photo. 

The last item in the box was a picture frame, with gold trim and frosted glass at the edges. It contained a single photo of the baby. The gold, and the slight coloration in the image, made him look especially alive. Edea held it to her chest, where Ringabel retrieved it when he came back around to her.

"We'll put this in our room," he said, his eyes taking it all in. His face was even, but Edea knew him well enough to know that he was forcing it that way. Stealing a look at her parents, she could see that her father's face was mostly obscured by how much he was forced to lean over to look at the book on her mother's lap. But her mother's face was shining with trails of tears as she turned the pages slowly, murmuring comments to the man beside her.

"I agree," Edea finally said. "On our nightstand?"

"We do need to put something there," he said. "It is awfully bare." He handed the photo back to her and took a look through the box for himself, accessing the items inside quickly before, after a small pause, he turned and opened the door to the sitting room, revealing the patiently waiting photographer's assistant. The woman was reading a small book that she'd had in her pocket, and sipping on some tea that Bridgette had brought, and now looked up as the man approached.

"Why don't you come with me to the study to work out the payment?" he said to her, with a wide, toothy smile, sounding more cheerful than he had in days. As he took the young woman's arm in his hand, he gave her an appreciative glance over. Edea rolled her eyes at his back; if he felt well enough to flirt, then he was on the mend. "We need to cover the fees for his work, and then perhaps a bit extra for the delivery? How much does he usually charge for that?" They slipped out of the room as he chatted.

"Edea," Mahzer said softly. "Why don't you come over and look at these pictures with us? They're quite lovely. He was a beautiful boy."

Edea got to her feet, feeling strength in her form that had been missing since she'd given birth. Slipping around the table, there was just enough room on the loveseat for her to squeeze in between her parents. She balanced the heavy book on her knees, and together they went through the photos one by one.

The second thing to happen, just the next day, was that Anazel's ashes were available to be picked up.

Edea went herself, with Braev. The message had come while Ringabel was at Central Command checking on the troops, and Mahzer was at the Healing Tower getting checked on while she was in the region. And Braev's mobility, not being the way it used to be, had necessitated that he stay home instead of taking the hour trip through the mountains with his son. He'd been forced to stay in the manor, where he had decided to knit himself a new pair of winter gloves.

"A few creaky knees won't prevent me from escorting you, Edea. It's my grandson that you're retrieving," he told his daughter as he climbed slowly into the spare carriage. It was smaller than their normal one, which was at Central Command with Ringabel, and he had to duck down to fit fully into the door.

Edea refrained from mentioning that he only had _two_  knees that creaked, shaking her head at him in slight amusement instead. He was so stubborn! "Do as you will, Father. I don't think I could stop you now." She wasn't sure she wanted to stop him. When the message had arrived, she'd initially been lost at what steps to next take until he had volunteered to accompany her.

Anazel's ashes were contained in a small ceramic container that had been custom made just for him, at his father's request. It was round, glazed with a shiny varnish, and had Eternia's symbol on the lid, along with his initials and date of death. The receptionist at the crematorium showed it to Edea, and then wrapped it in thick paper and cotton before placing it in a plain wooden box for her to carry safely home. She carried it on her lap, hands tight around it, as they returned to the manor.

"What will you do with them?" Braev asked her. The trip was slow, owing to the amount of snow in the streets from recent snowfall. It gave her lots of time to stare at the box.

She startled out of her blank thoughts. "Them?"

"His ashes."

Edea looked down at the box in her hands. It seemed so small for what it contained. A huge portion of her world, her heart, was ensconced in it, and would forever be. "I'm not sure," she finally confessed, her fingers sliding over the top of the polished wood. "We haven't talked about it." 

She and Ringabel had avoided talking much about what had happened since they had returned home. There hadn't seemed to be a good moment.

Braev thought for a moment, stroking his hand over his beard. It had gotten longer since his retirement.  "You could keep them at home," he said finally. "That's what many do."

"I know," she replied. Though death from illness was rare in Eternia, old age and freak accidents were still common causes of death among the civilians, and the military lost people unfortunately frequently. "I don't know where we would put him, I - " She cut herself off, biting her lip. Leaving him alone in a room that she didn't use often would be too sad, but she didn't know if she could bear to see this little urn every day without feeling ill and reminding herself of why he was there.

Braev seemed to think the same thing, and the older man sighed. He'd never been good with feelings, or with words. "Whatever your decision, he knows that he is loved. The decision that you make must be for _your_  sake now, not his."

She smiled weakly. "It will be."

When Mahzer, and then in the evening, Ringabel, returned to the manor, Edea showed them the urn, which she kept in the box for now, in the study. Ringabel hefted it in his hands, looking over the entire container. He seemed tired, with deep lines on his face that were only somewhat obscured by the beard that was starting to grow in; he hadn't shaved since they'd returned home from the tower without their baby. And he looked frailed; Edea wondered if he'd eaten at all that day.

"It's lighter than I expected," the man finally said, touching the etching on the side. He nodded at the workmanship and set the urn down gently.

"He was very small," Edea reminded him, her arm around his waist as though to hold him up. Though he'd been wearing a thick coat, she could still feel that he was quite chilled. And had he lost weight as well? "Even with his blanket."

"Blanket?" Mahzer asked from the chair she was sitting in, worn out from the journey to and from the Healing Tower. The White Mages hadn't seen her in some time, and she'd been there the entire day undergoing tests and exams.

"We … had him cremated in one of the blankets that Father made," Edea said. The older man perked up at that.

"Which one?" he asked, moving away from the bookshelf he'd been studying. "One of the knitted ones, or the felt?"

"It was in the photos we showed you!" Edea said, laughing for the first time in days. She was somewhat shocked at how easy it came. "It was one of the felted ones that had his name on it. Dark blue, with Chompers."

Braev nodded, straightening up with pride as his wife shook her head at him, amused. "Oh good. That was one of my best ones. Did you like it?"

"We loved it," Ringabel said as he was now placing the urn back into the safety of the wooden box. "It fit him well."

"Perhaps he'll have it when he returns to the Earth Crystal," Braev thought aloud.

"The Crystal?" Edea asked, surprised. "You think he'll return to the Crystal? But that…" Was Crystalism, and while she knew most of the Eternian citizens still believed in the basics of the Crystals' power, even if they did not believe in the Orthodoxy itself, she'd never heard her father express the same. Hadn't he abandoned the Crystals when he'd abandoned the Church? That her father still believed that souls would return to the Crystal after death was a surprise. Ringabel seemed startled by it as well, his eyebrows furrowing at the older man.

"You didn't think that I've abandoned all beliefs entirely, did you?" Braev asked, casting them both a bemused look. "It was the politics of the leaders, the corrupted teachings that I saw in my time as a clergy in the Church that I always opposed. The Crystals themselves cannot be denied as a powerful force in our world. It's a shame that they were misused, when they could have saved so many."

"We've never talked about it," Edea said, feeling somewhat defensive. Yes, her father _had_  harnessed the power of the Earth Crystal for good in the form of White Magic. His biggest enemy had always been the people who would misuse them and those that would preach harmful, malicious ways. Edea had come to know the good side of the Crystals in her journey with Agnès. She had witnessed first hand how necessary they really were, and while she wouldn't call herself a Crystalist, she knew some aspects of Crystalism had their uses.

Braev thought about that for a moment. "You are correct," he finally admitted. "There's a great many things we've never spoken about." They were all quiet for a moment before he continued. "I suppose… that while it may be delayed, there's no time like the present."

Mahzer beamed at him. "No, you're right. There's no reason you can't start now, especially since we'll be staying for a while."

Setting Anazel's ashes safely in the middle of the desk, Edea followed her father as he beckoned Ringabel and herself into the sitting room so they could talk over tea. Or hot chocolate, in Edea's case, asking the maid specifically for some.

The third thing to happen was that the next week, Edea was puttering around in the guest room, since she had yet to return to her own, when she heard the doorbell ring. 

She groaned; today had been a particularly bad day. They still had not decided on what to do with Anazel's ashes, and so he had been placed in the guest room for now, on the dresser in the corner. This meant that he was the first thing to see when she woke, and the last thing she saw before she fell asleep (at least until Ringabel started sleeping on that side, citing protecting her from monsters). It had saddened her greatly, and as a result she had been staying in bed more often than not, until she was sure her skin was terribly pale and her hair stringier than ever. She hadn't bathed in several days.

"Edea!" Ringabel called from the study. "Could you get the door, dear? I'm busy."

Her mother was likely sleeping upstairs, since she'd had a follow-up appointment to the Healing Tower yesterday and they'd taken blood for tests. Her father was probably in the back, chatting with Sinon about repairs on the manor and how to go about upgrading the little house that the Lees lived in at the Sage's Forest. He had been doing that lately, and trying to convince the man to come down to Florem and help, much to Edea's chagrin. Edea sighed and yelled back at her husband.

"We have maids!"

There was a pause. "I sent them out to shop for dinner!" he yelled back, sounding only slightly irritated. "Answer the door!"

She grumbled. And Bogue was at his sister's house. He'd told her just last night that his elderly sister had fallen ill and he wanted to take her to the Central Healing tower for treatment for the next few days.

"Fine, fine," she finally replied, though not in a yell, so he couldn't hear her response. Dragging herself out of bed, and ignoring another ring of the doorbell, she pulled her listless hair back into a ponytail, wrapped a dressing robe around herself, and staggered to the door. She prayed it wasn't a messenger; she wasn't up to keeping up the appearances of the shining Grand Marshal.

"What is it?" she tried not to bite as she threw the door open. "Do you have an - Agnès!" Stepping back in shock, she clasped her hands to her mouth as she took in the sight of Agnès Arrior standing in the doorway, her cheeks rosy with the cold, even behind the thick scarf she wore.

Behind her stood Tiz, Yew, and Magnolia, all bundled up against the biting wind. 

"Edea!" they said, smiles all around.

She slammed the door shut.

"Now why did you do that?" Ringabel asked, looking into the hallway from where he'd come around from the office. "They're our friends."

He'd known about this! She gaped at him. "I can't let them see me like this!"

"It's cold outside." 

"You let them in," she hissed, rushing past him as he came toward the door. "I need to clean up!"

The maids had kept her clothes in the limited wardrobe in the guest room clean, but Edea found herself rushing up the stairs to where the remainder of her clothing was. The movement, sudden and straining, made her wince, but the pain in her legs and pelvis only made her focused on getting to her room. She sped up to the third floor, past the nursery door with Anazel's initials on it without even looking, to the master suite, and over to the small room that functioned as a combined closet for Ringabel and herself.

After picking a nice, bright outfit, she then whisked herself into the bathroom to scrub away the grime from her skin. Scrubbed her face. Shampooed her hair until it squeaked. Shaved her legs, just in case.

Only then, once she had dried and dressed, and done her hair up into a more fashionable style did she finally relax, falling back into her cool, dusty bed and staring up at a ceiling she hadn't seen in days,

Ringabel joined her.

"You look beautiful, as always," he said, sitting down beside her. "You looked fine earlier, as well."

"That's what you always say," she sighed, turning to look at him. He had shaved as well, and his hair was pulled back into a neat ponytail, neater than he'd looked in days. Why hadn't she noticed? "Were they terribly angry?"

"Of course not," he replied. "They're our friends. They're worried about you."

"I thought I told them that I didn't want company."

"You did. I told them, with your mother's agreement, that company would be good for you."

"You went behind my back?" she asked, astonished, and a bit impressed. Ringabel was only good at lying when it came to two things: Eternia's safety or her's. When it came to other things, she generally found it easy to know when he was fibbing. This time, she hadn't caught on at all that he was up to things!

"I was worried for you," he said, and then in the next moment he had brought up his feet and rolled over so that one his legs hooked into hers. Supporting some of his weight on one arm, he leaned most of it onto her, covering her halfway with his body and chasing out the chill of the unused room. "You've been so… sad."

"Ringabel… you know why. Aren't you sad, too?"

"I know why, and I am. The same as you." He kissed her cheek. She closed her eyes and lifted one hand to touch the back of his head. "And I can tell that this is more than sadness. I'm always more than happy to support you, to love you. But you need more love and support than I can offer, especially when I'm feeling… upset as well."

"Your depression has gotten worse, hasn't it?" she asked, feeling guilty that she hadn't thought to ask before. "Have you been seeing your doctor?"

"He makes house calls," Ringabel replied casually. His nose pressed into her temple. "Early in the morning, when you're still asleep. In any case, I thought that seeing your friends would be good for you.  You need more than just one person to be there with you."

"They don't know what it's like," she said, though she knew it was only an excuse.

"They don't know what it's like to lose someone very dear to them?" he asked, lifting his head to give her a look. "You know better than that. I think you need to talk to them."

She sighed. He was right. And the instant she had said those words, she had regretted it. Tiz had lost Til, his younger brother, and had lived instead. His survivor guilt had all but consumed him in their first journey. And Agnès; so many people had died protecting her life, from her oldest friend to the numerous acolytes that she had spent her life with. Magnolia had lost nearly all of her people to the Ba'als, and Yew had lost his brother, his only remaining family, for a second time. Perhaps it wasn't the same as losing a _child_  due to their own actions, but… but they would understand at least parts of it.

Ringabel escorted her downstairs, putting himself between her and the nursery door. The adrenaline rush from earlier was over, but going down was much easier than going up, and she had only the tiniest twinges of pain in her pelvis as she descended down to the sitting room, where the group of four were waiting for her over cups of tea.

"Hello everyone," she said as she and Ringabel came into the cozy, warm room. "I'm sorry about that."

Agnès rose from her seat. "Please don't slam the door this time," the brunette said as she crossed the distance between them and wrapped Edea up into her arms tightly. 

Edea squeezed Agnès in return. "I'm sorry! It just sort of happened."

"It's cold outside, Edea," Tiz complained. "You could have at least let us inside before you ran away." But there was no bite to his words, and he too joined in on the hug, his arms wide enough to wrap around both women.

"You're lucky it didn't cause the snow to collapse on you," Ringabel said, patting Tiz and Agnès on the shoulders. "It's happened before."

Yew shivered. "I can't imagine what that would be like. I'm glad you let us in, Mr. Ringabel." He stayed sitting on the loveseat as Magnolia, eager to join the group hug, crossed the room.

After hugs were exchanged by all standing parties, Edea stood back to look at them all. "But why are you all here. And how?"

They all looked at Ringabel, who shrugged. "I've already confessed. Go ahead."

"Ringabel called us on the Crystal the day after you were released from the Healing Tower and asked if we would be willing to come and see you. He thought you might need the company."

Edea shot her husband an irritated look. "He didn't ask me." In response to that, Ringabel pretended to be examining his fingernails.

"So he sent an airship to pick Tiz and Agnès up, and Magnolia and I traveled from Gathelatio. He thought the surprise might be easier to swallow if we were all together, so we've been waiting in Eternia until the ship to Caldisla returned. Sorry we didn't tell you sooner," Yew finished, looking apologetic. 

"We brought sweets," Tiz said, reaching for a paper bag on the coffee table. "Some of those Norende milk candies you liked the last time you came by."

They knew her weakness. "How many?"

"We're getting more delivered," he replied casually. "Why don't you come over and see what we've got now?"

She took a seat on the couch, and Magnolia and Agnès immediately flocked to her sides as she went digging into the paper bag. As promised, it was full of those delicious, chewy candies that were a Norende specialty. She popped several in her mouth before offering a few to Magnolia and Agnès (Agnès declined, since she was able to eat them any time she wanted. More for Edea!)

"How is Norende this time of year?" Edea asked Tiz. "Cold as here?"

The shepherd leaned back in his seat next to Yew. "I don't think that's possible. We've got snow, but it only just started sticking last month. It's still not very deep."

"We should make Norende our vacation home, Ringabel," Edea said to her husband as he settled into an armchair.

"Why can't we go to the tropics for a vacation home?" he complained. "Isn't that what normal people do? Oh, I know - how about a vacation home on a beach somewhere!"

She laughed. "Why, so you can ogle all the girls on the beach? I know your game."

They continued talking for what felt like hours. With each passing moment, each laugh, each time that Agnès would wiggle beside her with excitement, or Magnolia would exclaim in the Lunar language, she felt some of the tightness in her body alleviate. How had she forgotten what it was like to be with friends? Their laughter almost made her forget how dreary she'd felt just hours ago.

The maids returned, out on an actual shopping trick as Ringabel had said; the household had run out of casseroles by now and needed more food to feed their extra guests. Together, the three girls started work on dinner.

Braev reentered the house at the same time that Mahzer came down from her nap. The man had been playing chess with Sinon in his quarters in the back.

"Oh," he said, coming up short at the sight of the group of people. "You're here already. I wasn't expecting you to return until next week."

Edea stared at her parents. "You knew too? Was I the only one kept out of the secret?!"

"That's why it's a secret," Ringabel said smartly.

"Ringabel," Braev said, interrupting the argument before it could even start. "Did you organize the census reports we got back yesterday? If so, I'm going to go through them."

Ringabel leaped to his feet. "Yes, sir. They're not completed, but I categorized what I had and we can- "

Braev waved him down, gesturing for the man to stay seated. "Stay here. I'll take a look at the available myself. Tomorrow we may need to go to Central Command to find the record from the last census."

Mahzer wrapped an arm around Ringabel's arm, smiling warmly up at him. "You should catch up with your friends as well," she said firmly, steering him to the empty chaise lounge and sitting on it, forcing the younger man to sit as well.

"You're trapped too," Edea said, enjoying the way that Ringabel flushed scarlet. He should have known that they wouldn't let him get away with isolating himself either.

Not that… she was isolating herself. She was resting. There was a difference.

The topic turned sober.

"How are you feeling?" Agnès asked Edea, after Lila came in and distributed new cups of tea and chocolate. 

Edea pursed her lips, holding the warm cup of chocolate in her hands as she leaned back. "A little tired," she said. "My pelvis hurts sometimes if I move too fast, and my stomach - well, my uterus - is still shrinking, so it aches if I lay on it. But other than that, the rest of the pain - "

"That's not what I mean," Agnès said. When Edea looked at her, the brunette's eyes were kind, gentle. Almost too gentle for Edea's taste, and suddenly the chocolate in her mouth tasted bitter despite all the sugar in it. "When I lost Olivia, I was despondent for days. You remember that time, don't you, Edea? So I can tell, that right now, you're hurting so much."

Oh, did Edea remember that. Agnès had been bitter, full of anger and upset over Olivia's murder, lashing out at everyone and herself. Edea hoped she wasn't been as visible with her feelings. "That's different," Edea tried to argue. "You were upset and it wasn't -"

"And you're not?" Tiz asked, raising an eyebrow at her. "It's okay to be upset, Edea. It's not your fault he died."

"Tiz!" Ringabel said, as Edea grimaced so hard that the hot chocolate in her hands splashed over her hands and onto her lap, splattering into her skirt. 

Tiz leveled Ringabel with a gaze, even as Magnolia pulled out a handkerchief to help Edea blot up the spill. "She did everything that she could," the shepherd insisted. When Ringabel stood and shot a troubled look in his direction, he stalled for a moment, biting at his lip. "I know what it's like to feel like it's your fault that someone close to you died. Sometimes, it just - it isn't…"

Edea bit her lip, accepting the handkerchief from Magnolia so that she could wipe her hands. They'd be sticky until she could wash them. "I - I tried, but..."

"It's not your fault," Agnès said, wrapping an arm around the younger girl, giving Tiz a glance of her own, her brows furrowed in concern.  "Please remember that. It wasn't your fault any more than it was ours that our loved ones died." She pulled Edea close into an embrace, rubbing her back. 

Edea closed her eyes so that she couldn't cry. Magnolia's hand was on her back as well. They didn't understand, did they? It _was_  her fault. She had been carrying him, she hadn't been taking care of herself while doing so, and had ignored the pain until it was too late to save him. As his _mother_ , she should have done everything for him, even laying down her own life. "Agnès, I…"

"I'll pray for him," the formal Vestal declared. "So that his soul rejoins the Crystal for rebirth as soon as possible. Perhaps, in another time, in another life, you'll be reunited with him."

She was _not_  going to cry over that, Edea decided, even as she buried her face into Agnès's shoulder. "Thank you," she managed to get out when she thought her throat wouldn't sound so tight. "I'd like that."

Things were awkwardly quiet for a few moments as Tiz fidgeted, looking torn between apologizing and joining in on the hug. Then Yew coughed awkwardly. "I heard Sir Doka took pictures for you?"

"How did you know that?" Ringabel asked, successfully distracted from his hovering, though his hands still lingered on Agnès and Edea's shoulders.

"He's still trying to finish photographing the members of the Crystal Guard for the roster," Yew replied. "He sent a message last week saying that he'd need to push back our sessions because he was working on a special request for you."

"Well, you're not wrong," Ringabel said. "We asked him to take pictures of Anazel before we… would you like to see them?"

The big, leather book was brought out. They had placed it on a shelf by itself in the sitting room for now, while the negatives were stashed away in the office on the third floor for safe keeping. 

Ringabel made sure the table was clean and dry before placing the book on it and opening the thick cover, flipping to the page where the largest photo of Anazel was displayed.

Edea braced herself for the pity, for the mournful looks she would get, and the clicking of the tongues as they looked over the photos of a lifeless child. Instead, the first words out of Agnès's mouth were "Oh! He's so beautiful, Edea."

Tiz leaned over. "I think he looks like Ringabel."

"Does he have no hair, though?" Magnolia asked, examining the big photo that was currently visible. "How funny! Can you imagine Ringabel without hair?"

"Well, he had eyelashes," Ringabel said defensively. "But, no, no hair."

Mazher, who had been quiet while the group talked, finally spoke up. She'd been poking at some embroidery.  "Edea had no hair when she was born, either."

"Mother!" Edea gasped, embarrassed. She already knew that. The others didn't need to know that!

"Til had a head full of hair when he was born," Tiz recalled. "I think it's more common for babies with dark hair to have it when they come out than blondes. That's what my mother said."

Agnès turned the page. "He looks so darling. And yes, quite a bit like Ringabel." She looked up at the man who was hovering awkwardly nearby. "But perhaps not in the cheeks. The baby looks much more cherubic in comparison."

"Mercy, Agnès," Ringabel replied, holding up his hands. 

The group similarly cooed over the family photos, particularly of the one where Edea had been holding the baby to her nearly bare chest, cradling his tiny head. 

Edea left them to it. Slipping out of the mass of people with a reassurance that she only needed to use the restroom after all that hot chocolate, she escaped the room. Ringabel made to follow, but she waved him back inside, promising to return as soon as she had freshened up.

The house was so warm, and lively. Full of people. Keeping the door to the sitting room ajar, she could hear her friends talking about the baby with her family, Agnès sighing over how tiny the boy had been, and how she wished she had come to stay with Edea in her final weeks as she had been considering so that she might have seen him.

As  Edea headed down the hallway to the stairs, she could hear the maids talking in the kitchen about the food they were making. How they wanted to show off for once, and really wow the visitors, especially the foreign one, after that dinner she had made on her last visit. On her other side, the study door was open, and she peaked in to see Braev sitting at the table instead of the desk, a row of papers laid out in front of him. He was reading from a report now, a thin pair of reading glasses perched on his nose as he jotted down notes in the margin.

The stairs led her up to the second landing, then the third. It was chilly, still.  None of the fireplaces on this floor had been used since before they had returned home; the maids and Ringabel hadn't stayed longer than even a few minutes at a time here, coming up to this floor only to get clothes and books.

When she reached the landing, she steeled herself, then walked to the nursery door. They had left it relatively plain; it was white and displayed only a plaque with Anazel's initials painted on it. Ringabel had done it himself, using the same neat script that he used to write his own name.

When she opened the door… it was just as she remembered. The beautiful blue coloration on the wall, light at the bottom and dark on the top, with constellations and stars painted throughout. The crib was lonely against the far wall, waiting for an occupant that would never arrive. The box that held Braev's latest shipment of baby clothes was getting dirty in the corner; she and Ringabel had been arguing on how best to organize the baby's clothing, and whether or not hanging onesies up made a difference in how they would look when worn. Even the mobile, mostly unassembled, still had its pieces scattered on the dresser from the last time Ringabel had attempted to put it together.

The only thing missing was the blue blanket that had been draped over the edge of the crib. Edea had left it there after unwrapping it to take a peek at the embroidery, thinking it would make the vacant room seem less so. That blanket been the one they cremated him in, she realized. Sinon must have grabbed the first thing he'd seen.

Taking another step, she approached the crib and grasped the bars tight in her hands. The mattress was bare, not even a pillow (the midwife had said that was dangerous), and looked so, so… empty.

Anazel's initials had been carved into the headboard by her father. It had been made only for him.

Taking a deep shuddering breath, Edea held back … and then began to cry. Feeling weak in the legs, she lowered herself to the floor, still clutching the thin bars as she wept in the middle of the stiflingly lifeless room, apologizing to her son over and over that he would never see all of the gifts that his family had so lovingly made for him. All of this, for a child that had been so anticipated, and now, because of the cruelness of the universe, it was all for...

How long she cried, she didn't know. Tears came one after the other as she finally let all her grief pour out of her heart and into her hands, curling in on herself and her broken heart.

Ringabel found her there on the floor, an unknowable amount of time later.

At some point, she had stopped crying, too drained and too empty to continue. She had moved only to grab a blanket from the top of the box it was stored in, and had used it to sponge up her sobs. Now, she was curled up in front of the crib, holding the soft fabric to her chest and around her shoulders to stave off the chill of the third floor. She was shivering.

He kneeled beside her, his hand warm on her cold cheek. "Did you already use the restroom?"

"... No," she croaked with a raw throat, and did not protest as he helped her to her feet. His hands were gentle but solid as she clutched them, staggering as she stood, leaning against his chest as she got her bearings. "The others?" she asked.

"Worried about you," he said. "I suggested they get settled in and unpack, and then if I didn't find you, we could look together."

She nodded. She wanted her friends to be comfortable, and they had said they'd be staying for at least a few weeks. Tiz had gotten another farmer to look after the sheep to make sure they were fed, but there wouldn't be much for him to do until lambing season started anyway. From what he'd said about it, Edea thought it sounded terrible and didn't envy him in the least. Yew and Magnolia lived closer, but Yew wasn't needed on a daily basis at the church. He insisted they could get along without him for a while.

Ringabel cradled her face with both hands, taking in her swollen, reddened eyes. "What brought you up here?" he asked, rubbing her splotchy cheeks with his thumbs.

"I don't know," she answered honestly, lifting her hands to touch the back of his fingers. "I just wanted to… be here."

Ringabel leaned forward to kiss her forehead. "When you didn't return, I thought - " his voice broke, and she realized immediately that he'd thought the worst. He'd thought that he'd lost her, just as he had lost his child. His child. Anazel was his child too, and he was going through just as much pain as she was, wasn't he?

Ringabel had, the day she left the Healing Tower, confessed that it had been his decision to stop the White Magic in order to wake her from the coma she had slipped into. When they'd done so, they had spent hours trying to get her to wake with a variety of herbs and potions; it was only once she'd started showing signs of life again that they had thought to check on the baby, at which point they'd realized he'd passed. Edea had speculated, more than once, what might have happened to Anazel if Ringabel had let them keep her under the White Magic waves, danger to her life be damned. Now she realized he'd had the same, horrible thoughts.

She bit back a fresh wave of tears, instead, pressing her face to his chest as she shook her head. She couldn't let him continue to punish himself… and that meant she couldn't continue to punish herself either, could she? He would hate it if she did that.

"Of course not," she finally replied, trying not to sound as harsh as she thought she probably did. But she _really_  wasn't so far gone as to attempt anything drastic. Not when she had so many people around her to support her and relied on her in turn. Not when she had a husband like Ringabel. "Don't be silly." 

"It's not silly," he murmured, and when he pressed his cheek to her hair, Edea felt a drop of something hot and wet. "I worry for you."

When she pulled away, she gave him a weak smile. "I know. And I thank you for it," she replied, and kissed his chin. "I think I'm going to wash my face. Is dinner ready?"

That night, she ate that special meal that the maids made. She took a long, hot bath for the first time since before going to the Healing Tower, complete with bath oils and salts, and Ringabel joining her for the last part of it so he could scrub her back. She slept in her own bed, in her own bedroom, curled up around her husband as they talked idly throughout the night, holding each other until sleep came easily and naturally.

The next day, she made her decision.

"I think I'd like to scatter his ashes," she said, snapping closed the book on Ancheim martial arts that she had on her lap. The group was in the library, as they waited for the maids to cook breakfast. Everyone had slept in after last night's dinner.

Agnès looked up from the book she was reading. Some of the books they'd brought from Central Command in the move contained old Crystalist fairy tales that her father had collected during his time in the Church, and Agnès hadn't seen some of them before. Magnolia was in the corner, working on embroidering some patches into a scarf for Yew that Edea had made months ago for his birthday.

"Scatter his ashes?" Agnès asked. She was somewhat new to Cremation. In the Ancheim region, bodies were taken out to the desert for burial in rocks and stones. In Florem, there was open burial in the gardens for the flowers to reclaim. Crystalists had their own methods of burying the very faithful as well, but she had declined to explain.

"Yes," Edea said, but before explaining - "Ringabel!" she called.

He looked in from the other part of the library where they kept art supplies, at least until Ringabel could finish renovations on a potential studio in the back of the house, which would have to wait until summer. Yew had wanted to see his collection of pure pigments that he'd been amassing over the years. "What is it?" he asked. "You don't need to yell. I'm right here."

(Tiz had stayed with the girls, claiming he wasn't cultured enough to care about things like pigment brands and extraction methods. He'd instead delved into a book on onions, of all things.)

"I think I want to scatter his ashes," she said. 

"Oh?" Ringabel asked, coming fully into the room with Yew close behind. "You do? Where?"

She hesitated. "That's something I'd like to discuss with Mother and Father. Are they still asleep?"

They were, in fact, still asleep. Braev had stayed up late to finish taking notes on the census data, and Mahzer was tired more often. She claimed the cold Eternia weather slowed her down more than ever. Part of Edea wanted her to return to Florem quickly for her health, but the other part selfishly wanted her stay as long as possible.

Both of her parents woke when she sat on the edge of their bed, feeling like a child at Crystmas. "What is it?" Braev asked, rubbing his face. His hair, even in a braid, stuck out at all angles. It made Edea giggle at him. "Is something the matter?"

"Nothing's wrong," Edea replied. "I just wanted to ask you a question."

"And this could not wait until we were awake and dressed?" Braev asked, irritated. Beside him, still laying on her side under the pile of blankets, Mahzer murmured a sound of agreement and pulled the blankets further over her shoulder.

She nearly lost her nerve, but Ringabel had her back, as always, his hand squeezing her shoulder. "Forgive me, Father. Mother. Edea had an idea and I thought it was such a good one that we wanted to… get your advice immediately so we could begin to make plans as soon as possible."

She reached up to touch his hand.

"Well then, what is this idea? Tell us so that we can go back to sleep for a few more hours."

"Do you remember where your parents were buried?"

_That_  woke them up.

* * *

It was their first time hearing the full story. Mahzer and Braev Lee had never truly discussed the details of the deaths of their families. Braev had liked to keep his past a secret, and while Edea  _had_ known that her parents' families had all died of the plague years before she was born, as had untold millions of people across Luxendarc, she had never known the truth until now.

"So their bodies were never recovered?" Ringabel asked Mahzer, horrified at the end of her story. The four of them were sitting in the sitting room upstairs on the third floor. Their friends had gone out for some shopping to pick up warmer clothing, given the length of their stay, so that the family could have some true privacy. The man's knuckles were tight on the table top.

"That's right," the woman replied, her voice low and thick with sadness. She pressed her lips together, taking a deep breath to compose herself. "Everything burned to the ground. I heard there wasn't even a frame remaining. There certainly isn't one now. The villagers decided it would be a good enough grave, and they were never properly buried. It wasn't until after… after Braev's coup that everyone even received services so they could move on. However, it's been so long. I'm not sure I would be able to find where the house once stood. By now, even the foundation must be gone." She had explained, painfully, that while her father had died years before the plague, her mother had been one of the first to come down, and die, of the illness. In a futile effort to contain the disease, the house Mahzer had grown up in had been set aflame with her younger sisters still inside, and that she only knew the cause of their deaths because of Braev's mother. The older woman had written a desperate letter that described the way the girls had screamed as they died in flame, and begged her oldest son to come home and stop the madness. The road had been blocked; the letter never sent.

Ringabel took Mahzer's hand in his own.

"My father made sure to mark the graves of my mother and sister, but his grave is unmarked, if there even is one. They usually burn the bodies of plague victims, but I never found out for sure what happened," Braev said. He and Mahzer had both not been present during the plague, but his mother had sent letters and left notes before she died. His brother had disappeared while attempting to clear the blockade on the road leading to the city, and his father had died of what he called 'despair' after his mother's passing. "It was so chaotic, the survivors hadn't kept track of the victims and their final resting places. I believe those graves will be the best we can do. Will that suffice?"

Edea nodded. "It will. We don't even need to do it in the exact spot, as long as we can scatter his ashes in the area. That will be enough for them to take care of him."

She looked down at the table, clenching her fist tightly. She had already known Gravemark's past was a tragic one, but she hadn't known the specifics until now. It was so sad and horrific… and yet, it only strengthened her decision. The village was where the only family she'd ever had rested there, however sadly. It seemed only fitting that her child would rest there as well. 

Besides… she and Ringabel had, months ago, starting talking about restoring the village. Even if it would never see the former glory it had once been, it could at least have its history preserved. With her child resting there, everyone in Eternia would know she had personal stake in it.

Braev's hand covered hers, hesitantly. She looked up at him and smiled. "I'm sure of this," she said. "I want him to be free, and with family." Even if their graves were unknown, she was sure that the spirits of her parents' family were still in Gravemark. Metaphorically, she hoped. She hated ghosts.

"Of course. She would have liked to meet you as well," Braev replied. "When I married Mahzer, she'd hoped we'd have children quickly." But that wasn't to be. Mahzer had always been frail, and it had taken more than a few years for her to bring a pregnancy to term. By that time, the plague had ravaged the village. "When do you want to go?"

"I want you both to be there," Edea decided, thinking. But while Eternia's weather was always snowy, it was especially bad in winter, and she worried about Mahzer making the trip with her poor health. 

"What about our friends?" Ringabel asked, taking Edea's other hand in his own. "I think Agnès especially would like to be there."

"I would like her to be there as well," Braev said, surprising them all and surprising them even further when he took his own wife's hand.  "Though I have no love for the Crystal Orthodoxy, the Vestals are still key to connecting with the crystals. She may no longer be Vestal, or Pope, but her connection is still there." He paused, then added. "Your grandmother would be quite pleased to know a Vestal was there; she was quite devout. My sister as well, who had intended to join the services of the Earth Vestal as an acolyte before her passing."

Edea nodded. "I'm sure Agnès won't mind."

Agnès didn't mind. In fact, once the others returned from their shopping, and Edea and Ringabel had told them of their plans to scatter Anazel's ashes in the village of Gravemark, the former Vestal insisted to go before they even asked. The rest agreed. 

"We're with you on this, Edea," Yew said. "All of us can go."

Edea smiled at them, before her smile faded. "We may not be able to make the journey until summer," she warned. "The trip is no trouble for us; we're healthy and used to travelling. But my mother isn't. She'll have to go in a carriage, and the snow is heavier this time of year." And, she admitted to herself privately, they wouldn't be able to go immediately anyway. She was still on doctor's orders to rest, and she doubted that he would consider a multiple day trek to the remote villages of Eternia as "resting".

"Don't hold up the process for me," Mahzer insisted. She was sitting in an armchair near the fire that blazed in the corner of the sitting room. It was warm and cozy in the room, a warmth that had spread to the rest of the third story now that it was once again being used.

"You're coming and that's final," Ringabel said firmly. "It isn't the same if all of our family isn't there."

Agnès had that look in her eye, the one that Edea had come to know very well on their journey together. Ringabel seemed to notice as well, and he wound an arm around Edea's shoulder. "We'll figure it out. For now, I do need to know - what all did you buy? Please tell me you hit up some sales. Magnolia?" 

Edea gave Ringabel an odd look; what a weird question to ask right now, but Magnolia jumped in. "Oh yes! We did find an adorable boutique that was having a sale because they are moving to a bigger location. Did you know?" She directed her question to Edea.

"I think I heard of that," Edea replied, realizing she was being distracted, but not caring if they were going to talk about clothes. "Poppy's Closet, wasn't it?"

"Yes, so do you know. Ah, but some of the clothes are damaged - that's how we got such a good deal. Would you be able to help Yew and I repair them?"

"I can take a look," Edea agreed. She hadn't sewn something in a while, but it would be good to feel useful again, and sewing was something she could without stressing her still healing body. She could even sew in bed, if she needed to. 

"Come take a look!" the older woman said, and she gestured Edea out of the room so that the blonde woman would be able to go through all the bags they had brought back with them. The rest of the group were left behind to talk.

That evening, Edea stopped getting ready for sleep so that she could turn to Ringabel, who was already lounging under the heavy comforter of their bed. 'Warming it up for her', he claimed, but really, Edea knew they already had a heated brick in there, and he could sometimes be a baby about the cold.

"Do you think I'm being too hasty?" she asked, sitting on the edge of the mattress. Glancing across the room, she could see the little urn that held Anazel's ashes, sitting on a shelf.

"Hasty?" Ringabel asked, sitting up. "What do you mean?"

"Maybe we should keep him with us a bit longer," Edea admitted, crossing her arms over her bare stomach. She didn't relish the idea of keeping him in an urn forever, but she didn't want him to think that she didn't want him! She always had, and she still did.

"We will keep him with us a bit longer," Ringabel said, and he lifted his hands to her shoulder, squeezing them gently. "As you said, it will be some time before we can make the trip to the village. There's no harm in planning it now, but you won't have to say goodbye for a while yet." 

Edea turned to him, closing her eyes as he kissed her forehead. After a moment of enjoying his affection, she decided to push him backward onto the bed again and squirm under the blankets herself, despite his token protests of her feet being cold.  Once she was nice and toasty in his arms, despite a lack of thick clothing, she spoke again, nestling her head against his shoulder. 

"You think he truly doesn't mind?"

"Of course not," Ringabel said, and he squeezed her gently. "He knows that you - that _we_  - love him, and that we would have liked nothing more than… to keep him, forever. And I know that he loves you, too, and he would want you to heal."

"I'm healing. I stopped bleeding already, didn't I?" Of all the things Edea hadn't known about giving birth, was how much she would bleed afterward. She was no stranger to blood, but it was a little gross.

"You are healing. You have a follow-up appointment the next Wednesday, don't you? But you are well aware that wasn't I meant," he replied, kissing the top of her head. Edea waited for him to continue, but he did not, instead falling silent.

She went quiet as well, thinking about his words. She did know what he meant, and it kind of irritated her that he was right. Letting out a deep sigh, she tapped him firmly against the side.

"Ow," he said, though it hadn't hurt at all, then laughed. "Now I'm certain that you're feeling better if you can punish me so."

"If you think that's punishment, you haven't seen what I have in store for you later," she replied, feeling her chest warm at the tone in his voice. It had been so long since they'd been intimate in any physical way.

"Oh? I look forward to it, then," he teased. "Just promise you'll be gentle with me. Or don't. I don't mind either way."

"Go to sleep, Ringabel," she mumbled, her face heated against his shoulder. "I'll make you eat those words later." With a chuckle and a pat to the back, he seemed to accept her words and was quiet and well-behaved the rest of the night.

* * *

 

Her doctor's appointment went well. She was checked over for how her body was healing from birth, and given clearance to start slowly exercising off the the weight she had gained during her pregnancy. The appointment took the whole day, but the end result was well worth it; her doctor and midwife both determined that she could also start working again, provided she limited herself to 20 hour work weeks and worked at home for half of that. She was more than delighted to start throwing herself back into her job, into making Eternia a better country so that when she could have another child, they would come into something wonderful. Even if Anazel hadn't been able to see it.

The day after her appointment, the weather began to clear. Uncommon blue skies showed themselves above the city of Eternia. No snow fell for a few days, and the snow banks were getting smaller, allowing the roads to begin to clear.

"How long do you think this will last?" Ringabel asked casually one day, leaning against a window and watching children play outside in the snow. "Long enough to go to Gravemark?"

Edea turned to him. The whole group was in the downstairs sitting room, all engaged in their own activities. She and Yew had been going over some old paperwork for the Crystal Guard changeover. Now, she looked at her husband suspiciously. He was too casual about this. "Did you do something?" she asked.

Ringabel laughed. "Me? How could I do anything?" He held up his hands in a gesture of innocence. "I've done nothing at all! I simply feel we should take advantage of this clear weather while we can!"

"I agree," Mahzer said. She'd been reading a novel. "The roads are clear enough that we should be able to reach Gravemark in a day's journey by carriage. I feel strong enough to make the journey, even with an overnight stay."

"What if a blizzard were to blow in?" Edea worried, biting her lip. She knew - they all did - that just because the weather was momentarily clear did not mean it would stay clear forever, and being stuck out in a blizzard could be fatal. 

"What if it doesn't?" Ringabel countered. "This is a good time to go, Edea. I feel it in  my bones."

"I'm not sure I trust anything you feel in your bones," she replied, but everyone else looked earnest.

"I trust his feeling," Agnès said, turning from where she was seated on a loveseat with Magnolia, going over cookbooks. "I feel that this is a good time to go as well. The weather will hold until after we return to the village. I'm certain of it."

She was outnumbered. Edea felt her heart hammer in her chest as she nodded. "Fine, fine! You all win!"

The next day they all set out. In total it took three carriages for everyone to fit comfortably inside, out of the weather. Edea had almost protested; she'd never visited Gravemark in a carriage and was used to walking. And she _wanted_ to walk, so that she could get some exercise. Wiser heads prevailed, reminding her that she was only just given a clean bill of health and that she would only slow them down when a carriage and dragon-horse would get them there much faster, which would also make avoiding bad weather easier.

Edea shared a carriage with Ringabel and her mother. It gave them enough room to keep emergency medical supplies inside as well, just in case. Edea was the one to hold Anazel's ashes, once again safely secure inside the wooden box. Mahzer brought with her some knitting, and she chatted with the two younger people as she worked on a scarf for Braev. Eventually, Edea decided to join her in making Agnès a winter hat to wear in Gravemark, and passed Anazel to Ringabel to hold. The man kept the box on his lap, keeping his son safe for his first, and last, journey.

Braev had decided that he, Yew, and Agnès could share a carriage.  The three of them, all of whom had formerly been in the Crystal Orthodoxy, still shared some responsibility for reforming it, even if Braev had all but retired. Edea had wanted to be present for that, but Agnès had said she wanted to discuss scripture and histories, which Edea simply wouldn't know. Yew promised to write down everything and talk to her about it later. That was the only reason she hadn't forced herself into the carriage.

Which meant that Tiz and Magnolia had the last carriage to themselves, along with the bulk of their supplies. The group had determined they would need to spend the night in Gravemark overnight, and from the last report, the village wasn't equipped to handle so many visitors. That meant getting tents and bedrolls, and food to prepare, along with delivering supplies to the last of the old men who still lived in the village. What the two of them would do on the long trip was beyond Edea, but no doubt Magnolia was preparing to cook in some way. Edea looked forward to whatever meal she would think up.

The sun was low in the sky when they finally arrived in Gravemark, but there was still a good hour of light left. Edea descended from the carriage with a groan, stretching out her legs and leaning heavily on Ringabel as he helped her step down. Anazel's box in one arm, she clutched her husband with the other.

"We're here," she said. They were here, and there were still no snow clouds in the sky. It was really going to happen tonight, wasn't it?

"We're here," he replied, but the slight smile on his face faded at the slight panic on hers. "Are you alright? Are you sure that you're ready? … do you think we need to go back…"

"No," she said, insistent. They were already here. She needed to get it over with. She hated to part with Anazel, but in her heart she knew… he needed to be here, with his great-grandmother and great-aunt to look after him. It would be better than him trapped at home, surrounded by sadness and heavy hearts full of regret. "I'm sure."

Ringabel nodded at her,  but she could tell her was still hesitant. Still, he turned to help Mahzer step down from the carriage, the older woman's steps heavy. She and Braev would be staying the night in one of the few cottages that still stood, though it was in dire need of repairs. It would still fare better through the night than the tents that the rest would be staying in. 

"Crystalist tradition says that funerals for children should take place at night, after the sun has gone down," Agnès said as Edea joined her and the others at the spot where they would set up the tents. Yew and Tiz, along with one of their drivers, was already working on it. This area was free from the graves, and on relatively flat ground. Edea had insisted on staying with them in the tents, not least because she doubted there would be much room for privacy in the one-room cottage, as warm as it would be. She had a feeling she would need some privacy with her husband after all of this.

"Why is that?" Edea asked, curious. She'd known about the timing, of course, but hadn't asked about why until now.

"Children should never die before their parents," Agnès replied, glancing back at her best friend and taking her free hand. "In the tragic event that does happen, it allows the parent to merely say goodnight to their child, instead of goodbye. All souls will eventually return to the Crystal and be reborn, and so they will know that their child will once again wake as someone else's child one morning."

It was too cold for tears, but Edea felt them well in her eyes regardless. She blinked quickly, and turned her face away, squeezing Agnès's hand.

"So it's only goodnight, then."

Would his next parents be loving? Would they want him as much as she and Ringabel had wanted him? She hoped that in his next life, his mother would hold him tightly as she'd never been able to, raise him well, and perhaps… 

Tears rolled down her cheeks, splashing onto the wooden box. Trembling, Edea turned her face into Agnès's open arms and started crying silently. Yew, who was very close, put down the tent pole he was holding and came through the snow to encircle his arms around both women, holding them tightly. His arms were joined by others, until Edea felt the cold blocked by the warmth around her.

When night fell, they had finished setting up the tents, but all were gathered inside the cottage that Mahzer and Braev would be sleeping in. Magnolia had started cooking dinner for everyone, but it would likely be unfinished for several more hours. Edea wasn't sure she'd have to the appetite to eat, but she would have to try. It already smelled amazing, and she would have already started trying to sneak a few bites if it weren't for the heaviness in her chest.

She sat at an old wooden table, with the small ceramic urn in front of her, out of its box. Her fingers brushed the side. Ringabel had pulled up a chair beside her, but he was quiet, with his hand against her back, rubbing soothingly. Around her, the sounds of the others talking were muted, and it was only now and then that snippets broke through the white noise in her mind. There was Magnolia and Mazher talking about the meal, and the spices that the woman from the moon used. Tiz was talking to Braev about how to best plug some of the drafts in the cottage so they would be comfortable through the night. Yew was pitching in with some ideas of his own as they started on the worst spots. And Agnès…?

Edea was suddenly aware of Agnès sitting on her other side, and the other girl's hands wrapping around her arm. She leaned against Edea, resting her head on her shoulder.

"Whenever you are ready," Agnès said. "The sun has gone down over the mountains. Soon, the moon will be shining on the snow."

"We should go before it gets too cold," Edea mumbled. Even if there would be no snow, the lack of sun would still chill the countryside. Edea shivered at the thought, but it wasn't only cold that set her shuddering.

"We don't have to do this now," Ringabel suddenly said, and his hand was over hers, warming her fingers. "We can go back home and return when you're ready."

"We're already here," she reminded him, and her fingers twitched. She tugged her hand out from his and covered it in turn, squeezing it. "We've already made the trip, and besides, who knows when we'll be able to make another one altogether?"

"But if you're not ready…" he insisted.

"No one said I wasn't ready," she replied. "You said it yourself, Ringabel. I have to do this so I can start healing." She hadn't been ready to have a baby in the first place, hadn't been ready to lose him at all, and _that_  had all happened, hadn't it? No, if anything she felt a little too ready to say goodbye - goodnight, she reminded herself. Anazel would be well-rested here, with family, and generations of Lees stretching back many years to look after him. And once he was truly at rest, so too would she be… someday, probably.

He bit his lip. "If you're sure. I don't want to push you."

"We're already here," she said again, and when she saw his frown deepen, she shook her head at him. "I want us both - all three of us - to be at peace. Are _you_  ready?" she asked, wondering if the cold feet were on his own behalf instead of her own. This wasn't the first time he had lost someone so dear to him, she reminded herself suddenly, but unlike _that_  time...

Ringabel flushed at being called out. "I would never wish to say goodbye to anyone that I love, but…" he hesitated for a moment longer, biting his lip, before nodding. "It's now or never isn't it?"

"That's not a really a good way to think about it," she said, even as she stood, catching the attention of the rest. "Let's do it together."

It was as a group that they stood in front of two very old grave markers. They were older than she was, Edea knew, and though age and weather had worn away most of what was engraved on the markers, Braev had not needed the names to find the graves' location.

He had found them rather quickly even in the light of only the moon and stars, standing in front of them quietly for a moment, his large hand brushing the snow off the wood of one before stepping back and gesturing for Edea and Ringabel to step forward. The rest of the group held back, silent observers, even with Agnès kneeling on a blanket in the snow, her mittened hands clasped in front of her as she prayed. The hat that Edea had knit for her covered her ears from the chill.

The urn that she carried in her hands felt so heavy. As she made her way carefully through the snow, she worried for a moment that she might trip and fall, scattering Anazel's ashes all over. Then she smiled, despite herself. Wasn't that what they were here to do?

"How do we do this?" Ringabel asked, unsure. He turned to face her, his face pink with cold. At least the wind was not blowing, the air still but not as bitterly cold as it might usually be this time of year. She could see his breath in the air.

"Uh…" That was a great question. Edea had never seen anyone scatter ashes before. Surely she wasn't meant to just turn the urn over and dump him out. "I guess we should… take some ashes in hand?" That sounded about right.

Opening the lid of the urn for the first time ever, she tucked it under one arm and - tugging her glove off with her teeth - she reached in for a handful of ashes. They were lighter than she could have imagined. Ringabel followed her actions, scooping out most of the rest of the ashes. 

Then, she stalled, and her fist clenched tight. What was she to do now? Just… let him go?

A gust of biting wind blew into her, causing her to gasp at the frigid sensation. Almost of its own accord, her hand opened and even in the darkness she could see the ashes carried away. Almost instantaneously they were invisible to her sight and carried away to places unknowable. A glance at Ringabel told her that he too, had cringed at the sudden wind. His hand was empty. 

Braev steadied them both a hand, and his bulk became a windbreak. "Are you alright?" he asked.

"I-I'm fine," Edea stammered. She looked out over the white landscape, marred only by the uncountable number of graves. Somewhere amongst them, Anazel's ashes would find their last resting place, or perhaps...

"I suppose he was eager to return to the Crystal," Braev said. He looked thoughtful. "That, or my mother was eager to meet him. She wanted grandchildren very much, remember."

Edea smiled despite the stinging in her eyes. "She has one now to spoil just as you did."

Braev squeezed her shoulder, and then she felt him move away so that a crying Ringabel could wrap his arms around her. She clung to her husband, letting Braev take the urn from her so that she had usage of both arms.

The rest of the group went inside to warm up. Edea and Ringabel stayed out for a while longer amongst the graves until the cold wind started once more. When they rejoined the others, the rest of the evening was spent together, sharing a good meal and stories about their lost ones.

* * *

Upon their return to Eternia, life began anew.

The house was full for a couple more weeks, until Crystal Guard business beckoned Yew back to Gathelatio. He and Magnolia left with promises to visit more often, once a month or so as life would permit. Magnolia in particular  wanted to see more of the culture that Eternia offered, and said she'd stop by when she could if Edea wanted to go out with her on some play dates.

Tiz and Agnès stayed a month longer. Finally, Tiz said he needed to check on the sheep and get ready for lambing season. He'd asked Agnès if she wanted to stay longer, but Agnès told Edea privately that Tiz needed someone to care for him as he cared for the lambs, or he might not survive the season. However, there was nothing preventing them from talking weekly, even daily, though the Crystal pendant pieces.

Edea was sad to see them go, even sadder when her parents decided to leave at the same time, so that the trip to Norende could be made in a shorter time thanks to Braev's superior airship. But the weather was beginning to affect Mahzer's health, and they all knew she would do better in a warmer climate, where she would be comfortable going outside for fresh air. They left on a clear afternoon, with no clouds in the sky, the same as the night that Anazel's ashes had been scattered.

Mostly scattered. Some tiny bits of ash had remained at the bottom of the urn, unseen, and Edea had been at a loss as far as what to do with them when she discovered them a week after his funeral. Did she need to make another trip to Gravemark, or…? Together, she and Ringabel decided to keep them at the manor, a small part of him that would remain with the family together. He even built a special glass cabinet that could be locked, and it sat in the front room of the master suite, where they could pass by and see it every day. Eventually, she stopped tearing up when she saw the urn.

As the months passed, her sadness slowly lifted. She once again found herself working full-time. It entailed stopping by to check on the construction in the mountain passes, or meeting with Yew to talk about the Crystal Guard incorporation, or even going out and meeting the people that she led, who all adored her. So many things, all to make Eternia, and the world, a better place. She was too busy to dwell much on the hole inside of her heart, which slowly but surely was getting smaller, healing as much as it could. It might never go away fully, but Ringabel did his best to fill it with love, and she showered him with love of her own to replace his pain in turn.

When she and Ringabel finally had their wedding ceremony, it was the summer after they'd lost their baby, nearly a year after their actual marriage date. Grief welled in her again; thoughts of an adorable, healthy baby dressed up for the wedding ceremony of his parents passed in her mind, but the joy of the day itself, full of love and happiness, could not be overshadowed for long. It was spent with loved ones, family and friends, and the country celebrated for days with lots of sales on clothing and other items that she took full advantage of.

And when December 31st rolled around for the first time, she only cried for a little bit, clutching the framed photograph of her son to her chest while Ringabel held them both, as he had a year ago.

* * *

 

"Ringabel," Edea said to Ringabel one day, several years later. "I think I'm ready to try again. For a baby."

He looked up at her in surprise, pale eyes still tired from sleep as he sat on the edge of their bed. He had just woken up - she had been awake for hours, to go sit with Magnolia and her newborn daughter. 

Edea had been a bit envious when Agnès and Tiz, and then very soon after, Magnolia and Yew, had announced they were expecting. The two other girls had bonded over their shared pregnancies but had also reached out to Edea constantly, leaning on her knowledge and first-hand experience. Edea had been happy to share it, pleased that she wasn't being left out of this. When Agnès had given birth, Edea had one of the first beside her to greet the new baby, and she had tried to ignore the pang of jealousy in her chest at how healthy and lively he was as she held him, his coloration a perfect mixture of his parents. Theo was adorable, and absolutely her favorite nephew.

And she could easily say that, because Magnolia had given birth to a little girl who was her favorite niece, after a difficult pregnancy. Selena had been born sickly, and Edea had empathized with Magnolia immensely. The Genealogia family was staying in Eternia for now, while the baby underwent treatment at the Central Healing tower. She went every day but spent the nights in the Lee manor with her parents, usually nestled against her mother's chest. The doctors had all said that was the best place for her, but if she didn't improve, she might need to be in the healing tower more often, possibly for an extended stay.

Watching Agnès and Magnolia with their children had sparked the growth of something inside of her that she had once buried deep, under ash and snow. 

"You want to try for a baby again?" Ringabel finally repeated. He glanced over at the golden frame on their nightstand. Edea tried not to look at it as well.

"Yes," she said. "It's about time, isn't it? We… we can't wait forever. I don't want to wait forever. And he wouldn't want that either. I think he would want to be a big brother."

Ringabel was certainly awake now. "I would like to try again," he finally admitted.

"Oh, I know you would," Edea replied. "You hate condoms."

"But," he pushed on, and she was satisfied by the deep flush in his cheeks. "Only if you're sure that you're ready. We've got a couple more years in us, you know. We're not that old."

She reached down to cradle his face. It was rough with stubble, and there were lines from the pillow pressed into his cheek. His eyes were a little bloodshot; he had likely stayed awake late at night drinking with Yew, to help calm the younger man's nerves. She loved him so much, and was suddenly overcome with excitement over the idea that their next son would inherit his looks too. Leaning forward, she kissed his forehead, then pushed him back enough that she could sit on his lap.

Ringabel's hands grasped her thighs to keep her steady. "Already?" he asked, and she pinched his cheek when she saw his smug grin. "Is this going to be a pattern? You being in charge when we conceive?"

"Don't push your luck," she replied, and instead of kissing him again, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and leaned in, closing her eyes. His arms encircled her, and they sat in silence.

"I want a girl this time," Ringabel said suddenly, breaking the silence. "A little girl who will grow up to be as beautiful as you."

"I want another boy," Edea replied, pulling back so she could look at his face. "You know, so we can carry on the Lee name. I can have someone to teach swordsmanship to, and possibly pass on Father's Asterisk."

"Edea, did you forget that you did all of that, and that you're certainly not a boy?"

"Shh." 

They laughed together. 

"Oh, perhaps we could have both," Ringabel now suggested. "One now, and then another in a couple of years or - oh! Even twins!"

She groaned. "Twins? Ringabel, do not even joke about that." She started to slide off his lap. She was ready to try for another baby yes, but not right this minute. As close to Ringabel as she was, she could now smell the leftover booze on his breath. He needed to brush his teeth and shower, they could get Magnolia and Selena to the healing tower. Yew would come with them to Central Command, and they would all pick up the baby before returning home in the evening. It was a good system.

Ringabel let her go, now thinking out loud to himself. "No, really. Twins wouldn't be so bad. It's two for the price of one! And if they're twins, they'll have one birthday party. Less planning for us, and less dates to remember. Actually, that's perfect. We should do it."

She groaned. Why was she even entertaining his wild train of imagination, but -  "You're not the one who would have to carry twins." One had been enough. Two would make her look like a behemoth, not to mention pushing out two at once? Ringabel was a madman.

"You never know," he said, giving her a cheeky grin. She wanted to punch him, but that grin was so darn cute, so she would let it slide for now. "Come on, dear. Let's have twins. That means we have to try twice as much, yes?"

"I'm not sure that's how it works." This time she did punch him, a tap to the arm that nearly knocked him into the closet, but at least he could get in there and started getting ready for the day.

Months later, she would see two blobs on the ultrasound machine. Ringabel would yell in triumph, and she would owe him 500 pg. But she would also be happier than she could remember being in a very long time, with a smile so wide that it hurt, and wet eyes that were transfixed to the two matching heartbeats.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's the end of that.
> 
> If it weren't obvious by now, the fic is set in the same Universe as Treekianthia's "Bravely Babies" universe. More information can be found on my [Tumblr](http://hanatomame.tumblr.com) (as well as [hers](http://woodland-knight.tumblr.com/tagged/Bravely+Babies/) \- her fics are not hosted on AO3). In particular, this is part of Edea and Zealan's story.
> 
> Each chapter was supposed to focus on a different trimester of Edea's pregnancy, and since I knew, per the backstory of this universe, that the pregnancy would end during the third trimester, I decided I had to find a way to include the aftermath. The end result was much more detailed than I expected because I wanted to cover the healing process in what I hope was a respectful way - this was never intended as a fic to be written for shock value, but a way to flesh out the backstories of the characters in a realistic way. I've never lost a child, but Tree's mother has, and I've known women who have as well, and I would never want to diminish someone's grief.
> 
> Thank you for reading! (And leave me a comment if this made you cry)

**Author's Note:**

> More information on this fic can be found on my tumblr hanatomame.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Their Eldest Son](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15604470) by [Treekianthia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Treekianthia/pseuds/Treekianthia)




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